


The Kraken Affair

by VagrantWriter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alternate Universe - Space, Anthropomorphic, Dubious Consent, Fantastic Racism, Implied Mpreg, Intersex, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Gore, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Non-Consensual Touching, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:30:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 30,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4137621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VagrantWriter/pseuds/VagrantWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robb has learned to move on with his life after the sudden and mysterious disappearance of his best friend, Theon. Until the day Theon reappears with a stolen ship and a band of cutthroat criminals that he may not have joined willingly. </p><p>Oh, and it all takes place in space. So there's that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Robb I

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie. This story might be a little bit insane. 
> 
> I usually update my tags as I go, but now I'm laying everything major out on the line in case someone sees something that might otherwise really squick them out. Of course, if you want to stay and point and laugh at the weirdo who writes this sort of stuff...that's fine too. All are welcome. All are [wayhl-come](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i4Dc-J_mD7c).

 “This had better be good,” Robb snapped into the com-line and immediately hoped it wasn’t his mother on the other end. She would scold him for his rudeness. Never mind that it was several hours before his alarm was set to go off, so early that the artificial sunrise hadn’t even begun yet. Whoever was calling, it had better be a matter of life and death.

“Sorry to wake you.”

“Jon?” Robb sat up in bed. He certainly hadn’t been expecting his cousin to call at this hour. His voice sounded uncertain, like he was afraid of overstepping some line. Was this a personal call or was he acting in the capacity of the Night’s Watch? And which answer would mean the worse news? Robb was almost afraid to ask. “What’s up?”

“Sorry,” Jon repeated. “I wouldn’t normally call, but I thought you’d want to know. There was a routine harbor check, something off about the registry, we were called in—”

“What _is_ it?” Robb interrupted, growing impatient.

A slight pause.

“It’s Theon, Robb. We found him.”

It took a brief moment for his words to sink in.

“Are you sure?” Robb bolted up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The lights came on as soon as his feet hit the floor, and he stood, ignoring the wave of dizziness that came with standing too quickly. “Where? When? How?”

“Like I said, it was just a routine check,” Jon continued. “A Kraken ship came into the harbor about three hours ago. No name registered to her. The captain wouldn’t answer the harbor master’s hail. We’ve had trouble with smugglers before, so the Watch was brought in—”

“Uh-huh,” Robb agreed absentmindedly as he struggled into his clothes. If what Jon was saying was true, he needed to get down to the harbor right away.

“We didn’t find much. A few illegal weapons, some prohibited substances. But the odd thing was, there were no Krakens aboard.”

That brought Robb up short as he was pulling a thin shirt over his head. Only Krakens could pilot a Kraken ship. The bio-ware would not work with any other race or species. Unless the ship had been towed into port, there _had_ to be at least one Kraken aboard.

“Lycans and Canids mostly,” Jon went on, “but no Krakens. Except one.”

“Theon?”

A silence in which he could imagine Jon nodding his head, like this was a face-to-face call.

Robb threw his closet door open and reached for his jacket. So, Theon had fallen in with a group of marauders. He’d always suspected that was how his old friend would resurface, if he ever did. But how had he managed to get ahold of his own vessel? Kraken ships were heavy-duty weapons—“the biggest, fastest, most dangerous weapons in the entire system,” as Theon had so eagerly described once—and being assigned one was a major honor. Robb still remembered the way Theon had sulked for days after he’d been turned down by the Kraken War Council.

“Robb…”

Robb realized he’d snapped the buttons of his jacket closed without really thinking. He’d been drifting off somewhere, thinking about what he would say and do once he got down to the harbor, all the questions he would have. He blinked back to himself. “Yeah?”

“He’s not in a good way, Robb.”

His heart clenched. “What do you mean?”

“He’s…we found him wandering around in the corridors. He wouldn’t respond to any of our questions. One of our officers nearly shot him because he wouldn’t follow instructions to put his arms up.”

“ _What_?”

“He’s fine. Nobody shot him,” Jon added quickly. “He’s being held in the med-bay right now.”

“Jon, what’s wrong? Is he hurt?”

Another pause. “Do you…remember how Littlefinger was controlling Sansa?”

How could he forget? That bastard had implanted mind-control tech right into his sister’s head. She still bore the scars where he’d drilled through her skull to insert the probes, one on either temple. Getting the wires disentangled from her brain matter had been a harrowing ordeal, but there hadn’t been enough time for the device to dig too deeply into her frontal lobe. They’d removed the hardware entirely, and Robb would like to say that his younger sister was on her way to recovery, but the fact was, she could still hardly leave her room some days.

“Did Theon…does he…?”

“Same model,” Jon confirmed gravely. Littlefinger’s toys were still out there, even though the man had been in prison for months now. He’d had his fingers in some deep criminal rings. “The doctors are working to remove it as we speak, but it…it looks pretty bad, Robb. I think you should get down here right away.”

“I will. I am. I’m on my way right now.” He ended the call, jumped into his boots, and ran from the room, hoping that the first time he’d see his friend in cycles wouldn’t also be the last.

 

***

 

The harbor master let Robb in, because even in his state of clumsy dress, he was still the overseer on this floating island of scrap metal. He cleared the security doors, where he was met by a nervous-looking Jon. “Any developments?”

“None,” Jon answered, quirking his head for Robb to follow. “His condition’s stable. The surgery is going slowly, though. They think he might have had the implants for up a cycle or longer.”

A cycle? Sansa had had hers for little under a month, and the surgery to remove hers had been difficult, to say the least. No wonder Jon was nervous.

They clipped along the sleek, sterile corridors at a brisk pace, headed straight for the med-bay.

“He’s…well, not _conscious_ , but he’s awake,” Jon went on.

“Tell me everything. Who did this to him?”

“We’re having trouble collecting names. The registry list is missing, if there ever even was one to begin with. We’re keeping the crew in containment cells at the moment. The captain—er, confessed ringleader is one Ramsay Bolton. Male, Canid, twenty-two cycles. No record, but…”

“Just because nothing has turned up yet doesn’t mean one doesn’t exist,” Robb finished. “And you think this is the one who put that hardware into Theon?”

Jon shrugged. “The crew hasn’t exactly been forthcoming. No one will tell us what system or planet they came from, where they were headed, how they managed to come by a Kraken ship, and a Kraken to pilot it on top of that.”

Robb grunted in annoyance. It didn’t really matter whether they talked or not, though. When Theon got out of surgery, then they’d get answers. _If he gets out of surgery_ , a small voice whispered.

No, he couldn’t think like that. It wasn’t as if he’d spent every waking moment pining over his friend, but the past few cycles had felt…unresolved. It wasn’t every day, but it was certainly often that he found himself wondering why Theon had left in such a hurry, without so much as a word of explanation. He still had Theon’s things in a box in his closet. He wasn’t sure whether he should get rid of them or not. Had Theon abandoned him? Or was there a legitimate reason for running in the middle of the night? Without knowing what to think, Robb felt like a shuttle adrift in space. There was no way Theon could die without explaining himself. He wouldn’t allow it.

He burst into a run when he saw the med-bay doors up ahead, leaving Jon behind. The doors slid open to reveal a surgery in progress behind a wall of glass—at least three doctors and several nurses surrounding a limp body on the operating table. Their muffled chatter felt like white noise to Robb’s ears. All he could focus on was the body and the face he caught a glimpse of every time one of the doctors moved.

He knew that face. It was the face in countless pictures kept in a box in his closet. He knew the long jaw, the slightly crooked nose. He knew those tendrils that people tended to mistake for hair until they ran their fingers through it. Several had been hacked off, he noticed right away. He knew the color of those eyes, though glassy and locked on some blank spot on the ceiling as the doctors continued to prod at the metal studs imbedded in his temples. It was undoubtedly Theon, and yet everything was wrong. He was too thin, borderline haggard. The natural bluish tint of his skin was completely washed out. His breathing was unnaturally shallow and even. He looked like a haunted man.

“Gods,” Robb muttered. He placed his hands against the glass. “What did they do to you?”

He heard one of the doctors, more loudly and succinctly than the others, say, “I’ve just about got it off-line. Powering down…now.” He pulled on a wire, and the operating lights on the device flickered out. Robb leaned in as close as he could, looking for any change. The doctors seemed to be waiting too, because nobody moved or spoke or even breathed for several seconds.

Then Robb saw it. Theon blinked. Once. Twice. Consciousness began to seep back into his lifeless eyes. He looked around, opened his mouth, and began screaming.


	2. Robb II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with dorky world-building notes. Enjoy.

“Robb, you can’t go in there.”

But his mind was already made, especially when Theon tried to get up from the table and the doctors tried to pin him back. That only made him scream louder. Spurred on by memories of Sansa’s traumatic awakening, Robb raced along the glass wall to the operating room doors. He overrode the security protocol and erupted into the room to the startled looks of the med team.

“You’re not allowed in he—”

“Don’t touch him,” Robb interrupted. “He doesn’t want to be touched.” He shoved the lead doctor away, perhaps with more force than was necessary, and bent down by Theon’s side. “It’s okay, Theon. You’re safe now. You can move as much as you need to.”

He remembered Sansa’s tearful description of what it had been like to spend a month locked in her own brain, forced to obey any command given to her. Unable to move of her own will, she stood and sat and ate and even relieved herself at her master’s command. He made her do things, repulsive things, and she would do them, all while her mind was screaming from within not to listen. He could only imagine the horror of it, but he still knew better than the doctors. Theon did not need to be restrained right not, nor did he need to be sedated. He needed to be in his body again, unencumbered.

Theon sat up, and even though he looked like he was having some trouble of it, Robb resisted the urge to help him. Eventually, the Kraken was able to pull himself into a seated position, knees tucked up to his chin, arms wrapped around his knees. His eyes were wide, never staying put, roving around the room from one spot to the other. Finally, they fell upon Robb.

“R…obb?”

“That’s right.” He so badly wanted to touch his friend, hug him, pat him on the back, let him know that he was with friends again.

“Is this…a dream?”

“No. No, I’m really here, Theon. And so are you.” Slowly, he held out his hand.

Theon reached forward, tentatively. His index finger brushed Robb’s palm, and Robb felt a hint of that soft, spongy Kraken skin. Then Theon was pulling back, huddling into himself.

“Theon, tell me what you need.”

“He needs to finish the surgery,” one of the doctors finally spoke up. “Even without a complete physical evaluation, it’s clear he needs to be hydrated. A week of rest would also—”

“No!” Theon jumped up from the table, scattering medical supplies and operating instruments everywhere. “Don’t—don’t put me to sleep. Don’t make me. I—I—I need…” He legs stumbled as he stood.

Robb threw himself between the trembling man and the doctors. “Don’t touch him,” he repeated.

“We need to finish the surgery,” the doctor pleaded. “There are still meters’ worth of wiring in his frontal lobe that need to be removed. He could suffer a stroke or an aneurysm, and the longer it’s in there, the greater the risk of permanent brain damage.” The doctor eyed Theon skeptically, as if to suggest brain damage might very well already be a possibility. “At the very least, he needs to be patched up or he could bleed to death. I promise you…” He took a step forward, hand splayed on his chest to indicate sincerity. “We only want to help. He’ll die otherwise.”

Robb looked from Theon to the doctors. They were right. Theon looked a mess with the wires already hanging out of his head, mingling with the dark Kraken blood dripping down his temples. Robb sighed and stood to the side, allowing the doctors to rush in and grab him. They were good, he’d give them that. Theon barely had time to register what was going on before a nurse plunged a sedative into the artery at his neck, and then he faded away from consciousness. As they carried his once-more limp body back to the table, Robb promised that he’d apologize later, when he and Theon had time to speak alone.

 

***

 

It took twelve hours to completely disconnect the device from Theon’s brain. Robb stood watching in through the glass wall until the artificial had reached its peak He wanted to stay until Theon was in the clear, but waiting had never been his style. The thought of going into work made his stomach roil, except that his duties as space port prime included matters of criminal intent. And who should he have in waiting cells for him to process than a whole band of ruffians with criminal intent. Getting his hands on the people who had done this to Theon would be a good way to keep his mind occupied, at least. Jon promised to keep him apprised of developments, be they good or bad. Robb thanked him but told him only to call in the worst case scenario.

“I want to start with the captain,” he told the officer he found manning the cells. “Ramsay…Bolton, was it?”

“Yes, sir.” The man disappeared and reappeared with several other officers escorting a prisoner in cuffs. Ramsay Bolton was large, even by Canid standards. He was even taller than Robb, a full-grown Lycan, and had to stoop to get through the doorframe. The officers cuffed him to the interrogation table, but he was so broad and muscled, Robb suspected he could probably rip the table from its floor bolts without causing much of a sweat. He sat without trouble, though, glaring darkly at Robb across the table with pale eyes.

He was one of those mostly-human people, hardly a trace of genetic engineering to him. On the surface, at least. In fact, if it weren’t for his hulking size and the sharp teeth he bared into a rictus grin, Robb would hazard that he was fully human.

“Finally,” he began in a raspy voice, “someone in charge. Look, your honor, this is all a big misunderstanding. Why don’t you call my father and we can get this all cleared up?”

“Actually, I was wondering if _you_ could clear some things up for _me_.” Robb riffled through the specs the Watch had given him and slid the tablet across the table, relevant information face-up. “Illegal weapons, illegal narcotics, illegal technology…and this is all before we go into slavery and trafficking. These are some pretty serious charges. So, by all means, clear it up.”

Ramsay did not even look at the tablet. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. Slavery? Trafficking? Where are you getting these wild notions?” He continued to grin. Canids and Lycans were carved from the same stone, though, so Robb knew this smiling was nothing friendly. It was a warning, a threat.

Robb stood and slammed his hands on the table. Ramsay didn’t even flinch. “I’m talking about mind-controlling technology that’s been outlawed in over a dozen systems. I’m talking about you kidnapping a member of the Kraken royal family and forcing him to pilot a commandeered vessel for you. Is any of that ringing a bell?”

Ramsay raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Oh, you mean Reek? I didn’t kidnap him. He came willingly. And that ‘commandeered vessel’…it’s his.”

“His name is Theon Greyjoy. And that name isn’t anywhere on the registry.”

“Maybe _he’s_ the one who commandeered it.” Ramsay shrugged. “I didn’t ask where he got it.”

Robb was beginning to see red, but he forced himself to relax. The wolf genes that had been spliced with humans to create Lycans made him protective, sometimes to the point of irrationality. He needed to keep his wits about him. One little slip-up in procedure and Ramsay and his whole crew could get off on mistrial.

“And I suppose Theon gave himself a technological lobotomy as well?”

Ramsay shrugged again. “Could be. The guy’s pretty messed up.”

There wasn’t really any arguing with that. Theon had never been the picture of mental health, but Robb found it beyond inane to suggest anyone could plant a mind control device in their own head. Besides being ridiculous on principle, it was also physically impossible.

Robb took a deep breath and sat down again. “How about we start from the beginning? Where and when did you first meet Theon Greyjoy?”

“How about we stop right here?” The doors slid open to reveal another Canid, slender and with more canine features than Ramsay—pointed ears, an elongated snout—but the same pale eyes. “My son invokes his right to council.”

“Your son?” Robb asked.

The smaller Canid came to stand beside Ramsay, virtually dwarfed in comparison. “Roose Bolton, High Judge of Canidae,” he introduced himself. He looked like one of those carvings of jackals from ancient Egypt, made completely of cold stone. His lips barely moved when he talked. “Here is my validation. I believe you will find me more than qualified to represent my son’s legal interests.”

Robb’s tablet beeped. He picked it up and flipped to the information Roose had sent him. It all looked legitimate. Shit, it looked _really_ legitimate.

“Mr. Bolton, are you aware of the serious nature of the charges—?”

Roose waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I was informed. But I believe—and please excuse me if I’m wrong—but isn’t Winterfell Station a member of the Intergalactic Personhood Rights Convention?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must know that detaining my son without levying any charges is a breach of Convention procedure.”

“We are in the midst of charging—”

“But you haven’t yet. Unless you intend to, right this moment?”

Robb clenched his teeth. He could. He could charge Ramsay right here and right now with slavery and possession of illegal contraband, but it would be hasty and sloppy, and no doubt some judge somewhere would take issue with his procedure. This needed to be formal and by-the-books if Theon was ever going to get justice.

“I release him into your care,” Robb said, “but if he tries to run before this matter has been settled, he will be charged with obstructing an investigation and evading justice on top of everything else. And _you_ will be charged with aiding and abetting.”

“That sounds fair,” Roose said. “Though I am confident that none of these baseless accusations will come to fruition. In the meantime, you have my word that Ramsay will remain about your station.” A venomous looked passed from father to son, and Ramsay seemed to almost shrink as his father’s withering glance.

It was with much grumbling that Robb unchained Ramsay and allowed him to be out-processed into the care of Roose Bolton. He was comforted only by the knowledge that, should Ramsay try to run, Robb would be justified in shooting him out of the vacuum of space. Ramsay would be an idiot to run, but Robb knew from experience that idiots always found a way to surprise him.

 

***

 

Ramsay’s crew weren’t very forthcoming either. They spouted the same non-answers—they didn’t know anything about the illegal technology, they didn’t know anything about Theon being under mind control, they didn’t know how he’d come aboard or where the ship had been procured. He got _some_ vague information. Ramsay’s father was a bigwig on Canidae and had political friends on Leonia. The detained crewmembers were “freelancers,” which meant they were probably mercenaries. Most of them had rap sheets, everything from petty theft to murder. After hours of grueling interrogations, however, Robb was nowhere close to getting a complete picture.

The officer who had first let him into the cells tapped him on the shoulder. “Maybe you should leave the police work to the Watch, your honor?”

Heavens knew there was plenty of other prime-related work to do, but Robb didn’t think he could pull himself together enough to do any of it. The whole thing had left him rattled and distracted. So instead of attending the meeting he had scheduled, he retreated to his office, locked the door, drew the blinds, and laid his head on his desk. After several minutes of listening to the faint electric hum of the machines in the wall, he finally sat up and switched the com-line on.

“Hey, Mom. Yeah, sorry I haven’t called in so long. Look, do you think you could put Sansa on the line? I could really use her advice right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lycan  
> Lycans trace their Earth ancestors to wolves, making them highly social. The look of a Lycan varies, covering the spectrum of natural human skin and hair colors to natural wolf fur colors. Likewise, the physical characteristics can vary widely, with some Lycans being nearly identical to humans in appearance to full-on “wolf man”-style lycanthropes, though the most common expression of wolf traits is either ears or a tail. Their home planet, Lyca (also known as Canis Major), is an Earth-sized planet on the farther end of the system’s habitable zone, creating a world climate that is cold nearly year-round. 
> 
> Canid  
> Canids are the sister race to Lycans, descending from Earth’s domestic dogs. They express these traits in even more various ways, including the patterns and general characteristics of nearly every breed of dog created on Earth. Though their world, Canidae (Canis Minor), is a smaller planet than Lyca, it is more Earth-like in climate and boasts a larger population. Canids are also highly social, though their sociality extends beyond their own species, unlike many Lycans. They tend to excel at diplomacy and de-escalation.


	3. Robb III

Jon called just as the artificial light was dimming. Theon had pulled through the surgery and was now in the recovery room. He had not woken up yet and some of his vitals were weak, but the doctors expected manageable lasting damage. _Physical_ damage, at least.

Robb finished work. He’d absentmindedly signed every bit of paperwork that had crossed his desk today. Many grant-seekers were going to be thrilled; his budget supervisor wouldn’t be. It was the only work he could manage, though. He powered down his tablet and put it away. Work was done for the day. Now he needed to see his friend.

Theon was awake by the time he got to the civilian hospital. “He only just woke up about five minutes ago,” the attending nurse said. “He’s still a bit groggy.”

Better groggy than freaking out.

They let him into the room when he told them he was working on the young man’s investigation. No one asked questions when he requested to be alone with the “victim.” He hated using that word to describe Theon, just as he’d hated using it to describe Sansa. It felt like he was taking the power away from them all over again.

When the nurses left, he crossed the room and took a seat next to the bed. Theon’s eyes were heavily lidded, and Robb wasn’t sure if he was really awake or not. It wouldn’t be unusual for a sedated patient to drift in and out of consciousness. But no, as soon as he scooted the chair closer, Theon’s eyes snapped open and rolled over to him.

“Robb?” His voice was tiny and strained. “Are you…is this real?”

Robb nodded.

“I had a dream where I…” He reached up with one hand, the one without an IV in it, and felt the bandaging at his temple. The gauze had partially soaked through with black blood, and he winced when he felt it. “Is this real?” he repeated.

“Yes, Theon. It’s real. You’re safe. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

Theon’s eyes went wide. “Ramsay!”

“We were waiting for you to wake up to arrest him. Your testimony will be the most damning evidence.” He didn’t want to add the possibility that he’d have charged Ramsay with murder if Theon had never woken up. “I know you’re still a bit fuzzy, and I know this is going to be difficult for you, but could you tell me what happened?”

“When?” The confused look on Theon’s face said he wasn’t being deliberately difficult. He honestly didn’t seem to know what Robb was talking about.

“I mean…how did you come to…?” Robb milled his hand about vaguely. “You know that you were under mind control, right?”

“Of course I know,” Theon snapped. “How could I not? I was conscious every waking moment. Do you know what it’s like to have your body obey somebody else’s orders? To feel like a prisoner in your own mind?”

Robb closed his eyes and cursed himself for being so dense. “No, I don’t. I can only imagine how horrible it was for you. But, Theon…” Here he opened his eyes to find Theon looking directly at him. “I want to punish the ones who did that to you. And anything you could tell me would go a long way towards helping me do that.”

“You want to know how I first met Ramsay?” It was an honest question, no sarcasm behind it.

“I mean…yeah, if that’s where it starts.”

Theon tapped his fingers along the bed’s railing. It was a nervous gesture, probably testing his newfound autonomy since he couldn’t very well get up and walk around. Not with all the drugs coursing through his system.

“I hired him.”

“I’m sorry?” Robb leaned in closer to make sure he’d heard right.

“Him and his crew,” Theon went on. “I hired them to man the vessel I stole from my father.”

“ _You_? You stole the ship?”

“He…my father…wouldn’t give me one. He wouldn’t even give me a chance to prove myself. So I…yeah, I stole it from the barracks. Overrode the security code, piloted it out of there myself.”

Robb sat back to think about that. Theon had always been clever, in his own way. At least when it came to getting into trouble. But this…stealing a military-grade weapon from underneath a military’s nose…that was a serious crime, a violation of gods knew how many intergalactic rules. And, it technically made Theon a terrorist.

Robb didn’t want to think about that right now. As far as he knew, Theon hadn’t confessed this to anyone else. It would be unspeakably unethical to simply ignore this crime, but at the moment, Theon was a victim and not a criminal. Robb’s first priority was to see that his case was investigated thoroughly, so he pressed on.

“Was Ramsay the one who put the mind control device on you?”

Theon stopped his nervous fidgeting and stared at Robb, almost straight through him. “You’re not going to charge me for any sort of crime?”

“I don’t know,” Robb admitted truthfully. “Maybe later. But not now. Right now I want you to tell me how you ended up like…this.”

Theon lowered his head, his chin dropping to his chest. The gills on his neck flared, and his fingers began tapping again. “I…we had a few successful raids.”

“Raids?”

“We were pirates, Robb. We did what pirates do. It seemed like the only thing I could do to prove to my father that I was a proper…warrior.”

This kept getting worse and worse. If Theon had attacked unarmed ships, he wasn’t _technically_ a terrorist. He _was_ a terrorist.

“But we…we didn’t hurt anyone.” Theon lifted his head suddenly. “You have to believe me, Robb. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. We were stealing, that’s all. Commercial vessels only, no civilian ships. But Ramsay wanted…he didn’t agree…I thought I could keep them in line. They were _my_ crew and it was _my_ ship and I was the only one who could pilot it. I thought that would keep me in control, even if I couldn’t gain their respect. But they…”

“They found a way around that,” Robb finished.

Theon nodded miserably and winced at the movement. A patch of black blood bloomed at his temple, and he reached up to feel at it. “There was a mutiny. I fought, Robb. I fought so hard. But Ramsay had them hold me down on the table while the doctor did the…procedure.” He winced again, this time from some memory deep inside his own mind. “I was awake the whole time. I felt him drilling into my skull. I can still hear it. And then jamming the metal in. They say the brain doesn’t have any pain receptors but…but it hurt. It hurt like…it hurt.” He squeezed his eyes closed.

Robb wanted to reach out and touch his friend, put his arms around his shoulders, give him a hug. But hearing how Theon had been held down like that, it didn’t seem like he’d be particularly receptive to touch. “I’m sorry, Theon.”

“Please don’t.” It was Theon who broke the distance between them, reaching out to grab hold of Robb’s sleeve. It hung there uncertainly. “Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t you.”

Carefully, Robb laid his hand over the top of Theon’s, and when that got no negative reaction, he pried the fingers from his sleeve and held them between both his own hands. “I looked for you.” A flicker of recognition at that comment. “You left so suddenly. I had no idea where you’d gone or why. I wondered if it was something I’d done. Something my family had done.”

Theon shook his head.

“Then what was it? Why did you leave?”

Theon began to pull his hand away.

“Sorry,” Robb hurried to say. “We don’t need to talk about that right now.” He gave the limp hand in his own a gentle squeeze, and that earned a small smile from Theon. “In fact, that’s the last thing we should be talking about. I…let me get a witness in here and we can take your statement.”

Theon did pull away then and turned over onto his side, facing away. “Do you have to?”

“The sooner we get a statement, the sooner formal charges can be filed.”

“How…much do I have to say?”

Robb had been worried about that. Sansa had broken down during the taking of her statement when the lead investigator wanted her to detail everything Littlefinger had made her do while under mind control. “The more specific you can be, the more we can pin on this guy,” Robb said now, repeating the investigator’s words from back then. “I know it’s not something you want to relive, but every detail you give us could add another cycle onto Ramsay’s sentence.”

Theon curled in on himself and would not move to face Robb. “Okay.” His voice sounded small and faraway, defeated. “But could you…I don’t want you to be there. I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Theon, I could never hate you.”

“You say that because you haven’t _heard_.”

“There’s nothing you could say to the investigators that would make me hate you. What happened to you wasn’t your fault.”

“It was.”

“No, Theon, it—”

“Please!” Theon hissed into his pillow, cringing inwards. “Don’t take my control away again. I _did_ this, I _stole_ my father’s ship. It was something I _decided_ to do. _On my own_. Let me have that.”

Robb nodded in understanding, even though Theon couldn’t see him. “Okay,” he said. “That’s fine. It’s your decision. But I’ll be here when they’re done taking your statement. I promise, I won’t hate you.”

“Thank you,” Theon sighed. The rigidity went out of his shoulders and he melted into the pillows. “But you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kraken  
> Krakens are one of only a handful of species cultivated from invertebrate genes, namely cephalopods. They tend to be shorter and slighter compared to the average human build, and their bodies were made for the ocean moons of Kraken, of which Pyke is the largest. Despite their unintimidating stature, they are quite fearsome, due in large part to their advanced bio-technology. Their Royal Naval Fleet is one of the strongest in the galaxy, second only to the Draconians, but their interests lie, not in conquering, but in taking. Some species consider them a parasite race, as their modus operandi involves stealing the resources of more bountiful planets.


	4. Theon I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theon chapters are going to be flashbacks, so I'll be posting individual warnings for each one. This one includes some violence and blood, though probably not from who you're expecting. There are also mentions of rape and torture, but neither is depicted. 
> 
> Thanks for all your support, guys.

“Get on your knees.”

The order was rough, no room for debate. The Canid gritted his teeth but obeyed.

If Theon weren’t so angry, it would have given him a rush to see the large man comply. Ramsay was close to seven feet tall, which meant he towered above everyone else onboard the _Sea Bitch_. And Theon had always been on the smaller side, even by Kraken standards. To have the mass and bulk that was Ramsay Bolton acknowledging his authority was the first time he’d felt really in control since he’d hired on this crew.

As it was, Theon could barely see straight, and his hands shook as he unwound the whip. Flogging was old-fashioned, and there were certainly cleaner ways to punish insubordination. But the mess was the whole point. His father had taught him that. People tried to keep their blood on the inside; seeing it on the outside would make them _try harder_ in the future.

“Twenty lashes,” Theon said decisively.

The Canid Ramsay growled something under his breath.

“I’m sorry? You disagree? Do you want more?”

Ramsay’s shoulders stiffened. “No, sir.”

“ _Sir_?”

“No…Captain.”

“Good.” Theon paused to regard the rest of the crew. He could feel the hostility rumbling under their surface. Ingrates, the lot of them. “This is _my_ ship,” he said. “I’m the captain here. You follow _my_ orders. You do what _I_ say, and if I say no civilians are to be harmed on a raid, I expect that order to be followed.” He turned back to Ramsay. “Brace yourself as you see fit.”

Ramsay grunted as the first lash left a stripe of red across his back. His hands clenched on either knee, but Theon couldn’t see his face to tell his reaction. He hoped it hurt. The stripe was beginning to ooze blood when Theon lifted his arm to bring the whip down for a second lash. More red. More blood. And yet all Theon could see was the scene he’d walked in on, the mangled-but-somehow-still-alive body of the captain’s daughter, whimpering and sobbing. And Ramsay, with that smile on his face.

Theon needed to justify this punishment to the crew. The rape and dismemberment of civilians would bring intergalactic law down on them hard, even harder than if they were mere bandits. It was stupid to antagonize the law. If they got caught, Theon, as the captain, would have to take responsibility for the actions of his crew.

But in reality, Ramsay’s actions had made him ill on a level he hadn’t expected. Krakens had been raiding practically since their species had been seeded, and brutality had been a part of daily life on Pyke. Such things shouldn’t have bothered him beyond the logistical implications. Maybe his father had been right. Maybe all those cycles with the Starks had made him weak. Or maybe he’d been born weak.

Ramsay still wasn’t making much noise beyond the occasional grunt, though his knuckles were clenched white against his thighs and he was stooping over lower with each lash. Theon wanted to hear him scream so at least he’d know if the punishment was getting through to him. But since he couldn’t very well order Ramsay to scream, he’d just have to tear it out of him by redoubling his efforts. The next lash caught Ramsay on the soft flesh of his torso, and something like a strangled moan escaped him. Theon made sure to hit that spot again, and again.

His wrist and arm were getting tired by the tenth stroke. He’d unleashed too much energy into every movement when he should have been steadying himself. At the twelfth, his shoulder was screaming in agony and he was beginning to wonder if this punishment was causing _him_ more pain than Ramsay. He lifted the whip back for a thirteenth lash, but it ended up slipping through nerveless fingers. The crew began murmuring.

He staggered back and leaned against the ship’s console, from which he controlled every system on this ship. Him alone. If any of these ingrates got the bright idea to mutiny, they’d find themselves adrift in Shit System without a propulsion engine. _Good luck getting back to harbor without your life support, fuckers._

They were still murmuring, and Ramsay hadn’t moved. From this angle, Theon could see his face, how his jaw was set as he waited for the punishment to continue. Sweat beaded on his brow, but he was more composed than Theon. Eight more lashes weren’t going to break him.

“That’s enough,” Theon spat. “You’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?”

Ramsay gave a single nod. No one on board was fooled, least of all Theon.

“Good. Get yourself cleaned up.” He strode past the kneeling Canid and made for the bridge door. He felt the crew’s eyes following him. He felt Ramsay’s cold stare on the nape of his neck. They hated him. He didn’t care. When they got back to harbor, he’d dump the lot of them and hire a new crew. A crew that could follow orders. The doors slid open, and as he left, he called over his shoulder, “And clean up this blood too.”


	5. Robb IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [To my readers.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VoW9czgQBqE)

Robb was nervous about what Theon would tell the investigators. Would he tell them about how he’d come by the ship? Would he tell them about his pirating? He should have coached Theon on what to say. Wait, what was he thinking? Was he seriously thinking about tampering with a witness’s testimony? Maybe Theon had been right to send him away. He might have to dismiss himself from this case. He was obviously too close to it, and he didn’t want to run the risk of a mistrial just because he couldn’t keep his feelings in check.

The inspectors interrogated Theon for over an hour. Robb sat outside the recovery room, bouncing his knee impatiently. When the door finally opened, the witnessing inspector popped his head out and nodded. “He’s asking for you again.”

“How did it go?”

“You know I can’t share that information with you, Prime.” There was a dark look in the man’s eyes, but he simply said, “We’ll be in touch.”

Robb entered to find Theon hugging his pillow to his chest. Krakens didn’t turn red with emotion; they turned dark, like their blood. Theon’s eyes were so bloodshot they were black, and his whole face looked bruised from the blood pumping furiously under the surface. He looked up as Robb came closer and murmured, “I want to go home.”

“Home?” Robb repeated. What did that mean? Home to Kraken? Home to the place they’d grown up together on Lyca?

“Please don’t leave me in this place,” Theon whimpered. “I don’t care where you take me, just take me somewhere. Take me home.”

Robb nodded. Getting Theon cleared to “go home” was difficult, but Robb hoisted all the red tape work off onto one of his secretaries. The doctors could bitch and moan about how the patient wasn’t ready to leave, but Robb would argue that it was far more important to Theon’s mental health to be with someone familiar, he would rest better in a more comfortable location, etc. etc. But really, he just wanted to get Theon out of there and somewhere where he could keep an eye on him. A larger part than he would admit wanted to make sure Theon didn’t run off again.

“You live _here_?” Theon asked, looking around the apartment. Perhaps it was Robb’s imagination, but a hint of sarcasm had returned to Theon’s voice. That was hopeful. He was unsteady on his feet, but he could manage his way to the breakfast bar. He slumped into one of the barstools and leaned on the counter. “No offense, but you’ve downgraded since last time.”

“Well...” Robb blushed, realizing how messy his apartment was. The kitchen, in particular, where last night’s dinner plates had been left in the sink. He hurried to clear the counter, hoping Theon hadn’t noticed. “It _is_ just me here, after all.”

“Really?” Theon sounded genuinely surprised. “I thought…what happened to Jeyne? Weren’t you two…?”

“We broke things off,” Robb said. “Her mother was putting pressure on her to marry someone of her own species, and I…was having misgivings about having children,” he admitted as he stacked dishes into the waterless dishwasher.

“I thought you wanted kids.”

“I do. But…I guess…I didn’t want crossbreed children. Don’t get me wrong.” He held up a hand to stop Theon’s nonexistent offense. “I’d love my children no matter what. But Jon has had such a hard life and…that’s not something I want for my own kids, you know.” Jon, with his half-Lycan, half-Draconian features: fur and scales, wings and fangs. Jon, who’d been bullied throughout childhood, who’d had trouble finding work, who’d found himself demoted and stranded out here on this gods-forsaken station. All of it because a Lycan woman had loved a Draconian man.

Theon was silent for a moment. He’d faced enough alienation of his own, being a literal fish out of water among the Lycans, so maybe he understood.

“Is there…someone else now?” he asked at last.

“Not since Jeyne, no.” He finished stacking, swiped the button to start the dishwater, and glanced over his shoulder to see Theon had gone quite dark in the face. “Are you alright?” He hurried to his friend’s side. “Are you feverish? I can take you back to the hospital.”

“If you take me back to the hospital, I’ll never talk to you again.” Theon swatted Robb’s hands away. Then he smiled to show that he was joking. It was the first he’d really looked like himself today. “I’m just not used to the climate here. I’ve been living on stale air for so long, I—” He broke off abruptly.

“It’s okay.” Robb patted his shoulder and he allowed it. “You’re off that ship now. You’re here. And you’re probably tired. Let me get the bed ready for you.”

Theon’s face grew darker. “The bed?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a guest room. The sibs come and visit me all the time.”

“Oh…right. I forgot about your freakishly large family.”

“While I get the room set up, feel free to get yourself cleaned up. Um…I know how much you like water showers, but I’ve only got a waterless one.” Robb jerked his finger in the direction of the bathroom. “There’s a place downtown that has a pool. We get a lot of Piscene traders through here. If you want, tomorrow I can take you there.”

Theon nodded absently.

“Or, if you’re not ready, we can just stay here all day.”

“ _We_? I thought you were some bigwig or something. Sure you can take the day off to spend with me?”

“I’ll make room. Right now, nothing’s more important than making sure my buddy gets back on his feet.” Robb flashed his cheesiest grin and was disappointed when Theon didn’t return it. Maybe he shouldn’t have used the word “buddy.” Maybe Theon was still convinced that Robb would hate him for whatever reason. “Hey,” he said with a pat to the Kraken’s shoulder, “I want you to tell me if I say anything wrong, okay?”

“Anything…wrong?”

“Like if I say anything…that makes you uncomfortable. Sometimes I slip up around Sansa, too. I just…say the wrong thing, and suddenly she’s back in that place.”

“What place?” Theon stood up straight. There was something like panic in his eyes. “What happened to Sansa?”

“I don’t know if we should talk about it.” Robb rubbed self-consciously at the back of his head. “It’s not really my story to tell. I’ll let her tell you herself, but let’s just say the two of you have more in common now.” He smiled sadly and hoped Theon would understand.

“Someone hurt her,” he said darkly.

“Yeah.”

“Is she…is she alright now? Is she safe?”

“She’s living with Mom at the moment, so, yes, she’s safe. And we got the guy who hurt her, just like _I’m_ going to get Ramsay Bolton. We’ll put him away for a long time, I promise.”

“Robb…” Theon reached out with shaking hands. “Robb, is this…real? Are you sure? Maybe it’s just a dream. Maybe I’m dreaming and I’m really back there now, with him. Maybe he’s… How can I be sure?”

He sounded like a child asking his mother to check under the bed for monsters. He needed reassurance, so Robb placed a hand against his cheek and just let it rest there. He could feel the sticky-damp texture of Theon’s skin. On any other species, it would be called “clammy,” but it was perfectly natural for Krakens. When they were children, Robb had had a fascination with it, and Theon would patiently put up with probing fingers around his face and gills. Now, he leaned into the touch with a soft sigh. His eyes fluttered closed.

Robb stroked his thumb along Theon’s cheek and watched as his gills flared pink. If he’d been a Leonine, Theon would be purring. “Feels real to me.”

Theon laid his hand over top of Robb’s, and Robb felt his heart give a kick. This wasn’t how they had touched growing up. This was infinitely more intimate in a way he couldn’t quite place.

When Theon opened his eyes, his pupils were large, his gaze intense and desperate. “I’ll take it,” he breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draconians  
> Draconians are one of only two species created from “scratch” DNA (the other being Griffons), and the scientist who engineered their beginnings was rumored to be quite mad. Regardless, they are a fearsome species with a vast spacefaring armada and unparalleled physical prowess. Or, at least, they were, until their home planet of Draconia began to wither and die, due in no small part to their overharvesting of its resources. Now they are all but extinct, with the survivors in faraway nooks and crannies of the galaxy. They are tall and slender; most have wings; some have horns; a few have tails.
> 
> Hybrids:  
> Hybrids, also known as “half-breeds" or "crossbreeds,” result from the union of two different species. These children are usually barren, especially if they come from highly incompatible parent species, though some, such as Canids and Lycans, are known to produce the occasional fertile offspring. It is said that hybrids from a union where one partner is fully human yield higher fertility rates.


	6. Theon II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Theon chapter. Just general warnings for this one. Non-consensual medical procedures. That sort of thing.

Theon hated the console control tank.

True, he liked being suspended in water, as Krakens did, but he had an aqua bed in his quarters that was larger and more private. He liked the sense of control being in the tank gave him—the rush of being connected to over a dozen systems on the ship never really wore off—but he hated how vulnerable he felt surrounded by glass while the crew went about their tasks on the outside. Watching him. Shooting dirty glances his way.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if they were fellow Krakens, but they weren’t. They were the same Lycan and Canid snobs who’d been shooting him dirty glances since Ned Stark had first brought him to Lyca. These canines had a way of looking at you that made you feel small, since eye contact was all about authority and dominance among their kind. It made Theon want to curl in on himself and demand that they stop looking at him.

He was relieved as the water drained from below, signaling to the crew that he was retiring for the day. His bare feet came to land on the floor, and the door hissed open. He was so busy thinking about his nice, quiet, private aqua bed that he didn’t notice Ramsay approaching until he was practically on top of him. He had to crane his neck up to meet the cold eyes staring down at him, almost white in color, like those huskies who were blind and deaf in one ear. That would explain why he didn’t step aside when Theon ordered, “Get out of my way.”

“No,” Ramsay snorted. “You get out of mine.”

Theon squared his shoulders in anticipation of a challenge, but the attack didn’t come from Ramsay. It came from either side. Two crewmembers—both of them mangy-looking Canids—rushed in and grabbed hold of either arm.

“What are you doing? Unhand me!” Theon snarled and managed to yank free of one’s grasp, but then there were other crewmembers joining in, grabbing his wrists and ankles. Someone punched him hard in the gut and he gagged as he was lifted off his feet. “Unhand me! You can’t do this! This is mutiny!”

“Why, yes,” Ramsay said. “Yes it is.”

They carried him, kicking and thrashing, from the bridge, Ramsay leading the way with a look of delight on his face. Theon couldn’t tell where they were taking him. It didn’t seem to be to the brig or to his own quarters—presumably for house arrest. Instead, Ramsay took them down the long hallway that branched off into general quarters and, farther down, into the medical room. That didn’t seem right, though. Mutineers weren’t supposed to treat their mutinied captain, right? Well, whatever their plans, he wouldn’t go without a fight. He continued to lash out at the hands grabbing him, even when he was rewarded with a punch to the face.

The med doors slid open before them, and the bright phosphorescent lights overhead burned Theon’s eyes. He heard Ramsay’s voice say, “Is everything ready?” and the onboard doctor reply, “Bring him over here.” So, the doctor was in on it too? Theon had never liked the man, a quack by the name of Qyburn.

“You’ll all pay for this!” Theon promised. “I’ll have every last one of you tossed into the void of space!”

“Set him down,” Qyburn’s voice said. Theon could see the man himself as the mutineers practically slammed him onto the hard surface of the medical bed. He was dressed for surgery, though Theon couldn’t understand why. “That’s right. Hold him still.”

“You can’t do this,” Theon said for what felt like the hundredth time. “If you kill me, you’re all stranded out here. I guarantee you’ll all die a long, painful death by asphyxiation, if hypothermia doesn’t get you first.”

“Doctor,” Ramsay said deliberately. Theon could see him hovering in his peripheral. “How long can a Kraken ship’s idling systems operate without its pilot?”

Qyburn blinked. “Oh…uh, about twelve hours, I believe, though I wouldn’t push it that far.”

“Then you have twelve hours to complete your task.”

Qyburn nodded and turned back to the rest of the crew, who were struggling to keep Theon down. “I said hold him still. It’s very important that he not move.”

“Can’t you sedate him?” one of the Lycans whined.

“Not much. A muscle relaxant, perhaps. But he needs to remain conscious.”

Theon felt a hypo-needle against his neck. The sedative was fast-acting. The fight went out of his limbs within seconds, and his remaining feeble attempts were easily managed by two crewmembers, one monitoring his arms, the other his legs. Ramsay himself came forward and held Theon’s head in a vice-like grip, and he found himself forced to stare into those eyes again when all he wanted to do was look away.

Then he heard the whir of machinery, which sent his pulse pounding into overdrive. “What…are you doing?”

“Try to relax,” Qyburn said. “I’m applying a local anesthesia, but this will still hurt a bit.”

Theon screamed when the drill began to eat into his temple.


	7. Interlude: Ramsay I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, have another chapter today. It's short.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Roose didn’t even look up from his news tablet, but Ramsay froze mid-step. “I’m going to get my Reek.”

Roose’s eyebrow quirked, but he still did not look up.

“Theon,” Ramsay corrected. “Reek is his…it’s a nickname some of the boys use. I’m going to get him out of that hospital they have him locked up in.”

“No, you’re not.” Roose turned the page and continued to read. “You’re lucky I’ve invested any of my time into your shenanigans. Do you know what I gain by keeping you out of prison?”

“I’m your son.”

“Nothing,” Roose answered, “except that I keep my name out of the news where it’s concerned with you. That is the problem with sharing a name with a son who cannot think far enough ahead to stay out of trouble.”

Ramsay bristled. “No one asked you to come out here. I’d be fine without you, you know. They can’t pin anything on me. Reek’s the one who stole the ship.”

“And the illegal technology the Watch found aboard this stolen ship? Did your Reek also perform brain surgery on himself?”

“He consented to it. He consented to everything. It was…”

“You don’t need to convince _me_ ,” Roose interrupted when Ramsay didn’t finish his sentence. “It’s the station authorities you’ll have to convince. And I hope you’ll have a better excuse than that prepared by the time they come to arrest you.”

“They’re not going to arrest me. I’m going to go get my Reek, take back my ship, and be out of here before they’ve even decided what charges to throw at me.”

“No,” Roose said slowly, “you won’t. What you _are_ going to do is go back to your quarters and stay there until morning, when we will start going over the details of your indiscretions so I can start building your defense. Is that understood?”

Ramsay didn’t have any hackles to raise, but the canine in him took umbrage with his father’s callous dismissal. He was an alpha dog by nature; he hated submitting to anyone. The last person who had challenged his authority ended up with a probe in his brain. And yet Ramsay knew he could not pull rank on his father, and not just because Roose was right. There was nothing that could get Ramsay to roll over faster than a withering look from his father.

He stomped back to his quarters, the adjoined room Roose had booked in the station’s finest hotel. Of course, “finest” was relative when it came to Winterfell. Still, it would do until this whole thing blew over. And Ramsay knew it would blow over. He’d get his ship back. He’d get his crew back. And he _would_ get his Reek back.


	8. Theon III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: some blood, violence, and torture.

“Blink twice,” Ramsay said.

Theon blinked twice.

“Move your toes.”

Theon moved his toes.

“Clench your left fist.”

Theon clenched his left fist. God, even his body had turned against him. He certainly hadn’t given it the order to do any of those things.

Qyburn was tightening something, snapping something into place. The pressure inside Theon’s skull was unbearable, like whatever they’d put in was pushing his brains out through his ears. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. He hadn’t been able to scream for at least an hour now. He hadn’t been able to do anything but breathe and blink.

“Calibration complete,” Qyburn announced, stepping back from the table. “He’ll recognize your voice. Though…I suggest you start with easy commands while the tech is still integrating with his brain.”

Ramsay considered that for a moment then said, “Sit up.”

Theon sat up. The world was right-side-up again, even though everything was wrong. Theon sat on the bed and waited for his next command.

“Stand.”

He stood. He was glad his body was at least mutinying against Ramsay as well, because his legs would not hold him and he fell to the floor. Qyburn tsk’d in disapproval. “He may be in shock. You should be careful with him for the next twenty-four hours.”

Ramsay hurried to lift him, bridal style. _Don’t touch me_ , Theon wanted to scream. _Don’t put your hands on me_. But he just hung there, limp.

“Well, we’ve got five hours before you’ve got to be back in the tank,” Ramsay said. “How would you like a little sleep?”

Theon didn’t respond.

“Say you’d like a little sleep.”

“I’d like a little sleep.” Was that his voice? Were those his lips moving to make those sounds? It didn’t feel like it.

Ramsay grinned and carried him from the med room.

“Things are going to be different around here, _Captain_. _I’ll_ be the one giving orders now.”

He didn’t know where he expected Ramsay to take him next, but certainly not back to his quarters. The door was locked to his bio-signature, and Ramsay told him to open it, which he did because he quite literally had no choice in the matter.

“We’ll fix that in a minute,” he grunted, referring to the lock. Theon shuddered at the thought of this man being able to freely enter his room. The door slid open and Ramsay gave a low whistle. “So, this is the captain’s quarters? Must say, I knew you were holding out on us.” He lifted Theon across the threshold and carried him inside. “Where’s your bed? You sleep in that thing?” He nodded to the aqua bed. “That’s no good. We’ll fix that too. Get a real bed in here.”

Theon didn’t say or do anything as Ramsay set him down and propped him up against the cold glass of the aqua bed.

“I don’t know how to work these things, so you’ll just have to make do with this right now.”

What could he say to that?

Ramsay knelt down and reached into the pocket of his red jacket. Theon’s throat beat with the wild pumping of his heart, but he couldn’t do anything as Ramsay produced a small, bladed knife. “The doctor says I’m not supposed to have you do anything too rigorous yet, but I really want to test something.”

He took Theon’s unresisting hand and held it out, palm down. He took a moment to examine it, seemingly fascinated by how small it was in comparison to his own. Then he brought the blade up.

“So here’s your order. Don’t scream. Don’t make any noises at all. Hold perfectly still.”

He jammed the blade under the fingernail of his index finger. A scream rose up in Theon’s throat, but he couldn’t force it out. It was stuck there, like a block, keeping the stale air in his lungs. The tearing of tissue was white-hot, so hot it seemed to be burning the back of his eyeballs. He needed to pull away, wince, flinch, anything. But he couldn’t. He could only watch as black blood began oozing from the place where his nail was being lifted away. And the only break he had from that sight was the steady, programmed blinking of his eyes. He savored those fractions of a second.

Ramsay finished prying the nail loose and held it in between his fingers, studying it. Then he brought it to his lips. A pink tongue darted out to lick the black from the edges. He smacked his lips, as if considering the taste. “I guess it _is_ blood. Thought it might be ink for a second there.”

He pocketed the knife and the nail and stood. Theon’s hand dropped back to his side, trailing blood. The air was almost worse than the knife, because it wasn’t concentrated. It was everywhere, burning at the open capillaries. He felt hot tears running down his face.

“Ah,” Ramsay said, “I guess that’s just a biological response. Can’t tell your little eyes not to water. That’s fine. I like that look on you. It’s very becoming.” He ran a hand through Theon’s tendrils. “You did well for your first test run. I’m glad to see you can take orders.”

The hand was gone. Ramsay’s heavy boots clomped across the floor, but Theon couldn’t lift his head to watch him go. He did hear him tampering with the locking device, though. He could hear his own bio-signature being cancelled out. His room would no longer belong to him as long as Ramsay was free to enter and leave whenever he wanted. Not that it mattered, since it seemed even his body didn’t belong to him anymore.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Ramsay said from the doorway. “Try to get some sleep.”

Theon tried to get some sleep.


	9. Robb V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for dubcon.

Robb startled awake. It wasn’t a bolt-upright, catapult-out-of-a-nightmare thing. As he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark, he let his nose seek out the subtle change in the room that had woken him up. There was an unfamiliar-familiar smell, but his senses were too muddled to immediately tell what it was. And then he saw it. The door to his bedroom was opened, a figure silhouetted against the faint light in the living room. Instinct said intruder.

The figure came forward, walking into his room, his territory, with such casual disregard that Robb felt a growl forming in his throat. How dare someone intrude into his apartment, especially while he had a guest in the room over? The fog of sleep cleared away as he remembered his guest. He took another sniff, but he needn’t have bothered, since by this time his eyes had adjusted enough to make out Theon’s lanky shape among the shadows.

“Theon?”

The Kraken prowled on light feet to the end of the bed, where he stood contemplating for a moment, like a man on the edge hesitating the plunge.

“Theon, what are you doing?”

He began to crawl onto the bed, sinuously, hands first, then knees.

Robb sat upright, pulling the sheets to conceal his state of nighttime undress. “Theon! What are you doing?”

Theon paused then, looking uncertain. “If this is my dream,” he said, “I’m going to make the most of it before I wake up.” And he continued to crawl forward until he was nearly chest-to-chest with Robb.

Robb had no idea what was happening, much less how to react. Theon started to lean in, which at last forced him to grab his friend’s shoulder and hold him back. “What are you doing?” he repeated. “Stop.”

Theon froze in his grip. “I want to fuck you, Robb.”

Was that voice supposed to be sultry? It sounded like a terrified child’s.

He squirmed and ground his hips down against Robb’s, but Robb couldn’t have been less turned on if it were Sansa in his lap. “Stop!” he said more forcefully, pushing Theon away. “You’re not in your right mind.”

“Please, Robb,” Theon purred, coming back again. “Let me have this.” His redoubled his efforts to pin Robb beneath him, but he was too pitifully weak. He moaned in frustration as Robb grabbed hold of his wrists and held him back. “This is my dream,” he wailed. “Why do I still have this broken body in my dream? It’s not fair!”

“Theon!” Robb shook him roughly. “You’re not dreaming. This isn’t a dream. Get ahold of yourself!”

“Please, Robb, I might wake up at any moment. And then it’ll be _him_ and not you, and I’ll have to go back to pretending it’s you. Let me…” He put up a token fight to get closer once again before slumping into a defeated pile in Robb’s arms. “Let me have this.”

Robb pulled him tight, to keep him from hurting himself as much as offering comfort. As he maneuvered the limp body into a more comfortable position for the both of them, his leg accidentally brushed the inside of Theon’s thigh. There was no reaction from the Kraken. When a person’s every action had been dictated by someone else, it wrought mayhem on the parasympathetic nervous system. Trembling, heavy breathing, even flinching—Theon’s body had been trained to forget these natural reactions. Perhaps worst of all, Theon wasn’t even hard. This wasn’t lust-driven. It was desperation-driven. A bid to be in control again.

“Oh, Theon.” Robb ran a hand through Theon’s tendrils. They curled around his fingers, a reflex too automatic to train out. As a child he’d found the reaction weird and disgusting and cool, the way little boys found “gross” stuff fascinating. Now, he found it comforting—for himself, for Theon, who closed his eyes and leaned into Robb’s arms. “I know it’s hard, but you’re going to have to trust me. This isn’t a dream.” He brushed one of the missing ones by accident. A Kraken’s tendrils were as sensitive as their fingers; Ramsay had to have known he was causing immense pain by shearing them. “If it were a dream, you wouldn’t be like this.”

He wondered if that sounded callous, but Theon seemed to understand what he meant. “I guess it’s not a dream,” he sighed. “If this were a dream, this is the part where you’d tell me you always loved me and Jeyne was just a big mistake and then you’d kiss me.”

It took a moment for that to sink in.

“Oh, Theon,” Robb sighed, “is that why you left?”

Theon’s sniffle was answer enough.

Robb wasn’t quite sure what to do with this revelation. How long had Theon had these feelings? He couldn’t say he’d been completely oblivious, or that the feelings were entirely unreciprocated. He’d always had something of a schoolboy crush on Theon, but since Kraken society was highly heteronormative, with great importance placed on one’s ability to produce offspring, he’d let those feelings slide away until he’d met Jeyne. The thought that Theon might have been open to a relationship—hells, _wanted_ one, even—was enough to make guilt twist in Robb’s guts. _He_ was the one who’d made his best friend flee in the middle of the night. _He_ was the reason his best friend had ended up in the hands of a psychopath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into Theon’s ear.

Theon shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I never should have…I’m such an idiot. I knew you’d never…someone like me.”

“Shh,” Robb hushed. “Is that why you thought I’d hate you? Back at the hospital. You thought I’d hate you because I’d be…what? Disgusted? What is there to be disgusted about? My wolf ancestors on Earth had homosexual relationships. Committed homo—”

“But mine didn’t!” Theon snapped. It was the loudest his voice had gotten so far, and he looked horrified at himself as it echoed around the room. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant. If you knew what I’ve done since we last saw each other…you’d hate me Robb. You’d be right to hate me. You wouldn’t want to be with me.” He chuckled mirthlessly into Robb’s chest. “Not that you ever would anyway.”

He began to pull away, and Robb let him go. He was surprised Theon had allowed himself to be held this long.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” He scooted to the side of the bed and stood on shaky legs. “I’m sorry I’m…the way I am.” His feet didn’t make any noise as he padded across the wood floor. The predator in Robb was jealous. “I know you’ve done so much for me, but could I ask you one more thing?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Could you pretend this never happened…when we wake up tomorrow?”


	10. Theon IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Physical abuse. Also, mentions of normal bodily needs and functions that Ramsay may be forgetting about.

“Get back up.”

Theon did. Even though his face was so swollen he could barely see. Even though the soles of his feet had been peeled with a laser-knife and standing was absolute agony. Even though he could feel the broken bones in his legs rubbing against each other. He got back up and stood tall as Ramsay smashed another fist into his face, sending him to the floor again.

The crew members laughed just as hard as the first time Ramsay had done this. They got endless entertainment out of it, especially when Ramsay invited them to join in. Then they would try their damnedest, see how hard they had to hit him to keep him down, knowing only unconsciousness or physical inability would do the trick.

This had been going on for a while. Some of the blood under him had begun to dry. The latest hit painted a fresh coat over the old, however, gushing from a split lip. Some of his teeth had come loose, but he couldn’t spit them out. They rattled around in the back of his throat, and he hoped for a moment that he might choke on them and die. But no, they simply went down the other way, scratching all the way down his esophagus.

“Get back up,” Ramsay said.

His arms shook as he pushed himself up.

“Careful,” someone called. “You might kill him.”

“Eh, go ahead,” someone else offered. “We’re close enough to port. We can get there without him.”

“Not without a tow,” a third someone said, then added a muttered, “Idiot.”

Theon would have sighed in relief. Port. They wouldn’t need him anymore. They’d either let him go or kill him, but one way or another he’d be out of this. His legs trembled as he got to his feet again.

“Are we just gonna scrap the ship?” the first crewmate—Theon seemed to remember his name was Skinner—said. “I mean, I guess we could sell it and make off like kings but…we’ll never get something with this sort of firepower again.”

There were mumblings of assent or agreement among the crew. Those that had assembled to watch the spectacle, at least.

Ramsay remained silent through their chatter. His eyes were on Theon, cutting through him. Finally, he said, “I have no intention of _harming_ our captain.” His voice was dripping with false sweetness. “Nor of abandoning him. We’re a crew after all. And this is our ship.”

The crew cheered and Ramsay kicked out at Theon’s broken shin. His leg crumpled under him and he fell, once more, to the ground. As the cheering died off, Ramsay knelt down and grabbed a fistful of tendrils to yank Theon’s head back. The tendrils weren’t really hair, like many assumed. They were powerful sensory organs, filled with blood vessels and nerve endings. To have a hand so harshly grasping them was akin to having one’s fingers bent backwards. And yet Theon could not react.

“You’ve had enough,” Ramsay said decisively. “I forgot how weak Krakens are compared to other species. Guess it comes from your invertebrate ancestors—no spines.” Hand still snarled in Theon’s tendrils, he lifted the broken body up since it could no longer stand on its own. “I’ve met avian species with stronger bones.” He hefted him over his shoulder like a duffle. “Come, little Kraken. Let’s get you patched up.”

Qyburn gave Ramsay a disapproving glare as the two of them entered the med bay. Not because he disapproved of the beatings, but because he disapproved of damaging his work. Theon knew this because he’d told Ramsay so on at least one occasion. “Put him on the bed,” he said with a frustrated grunt, then turned his eyes back to whatever he was studying under his microscope.

“He’s breaking easier.”

“I wonder why,” Qyburn sniffed in indignation.

“You’re doing a half-assed job of patching him up, that’s why.”

Qyburn turned from his work, a scowl drawing deep lines on his face. He was Murine, with beady little eyes and sharp front teeth that clicked when he was agitated. “He won’t heal unless you give him time to recover.” He stood and made his way to the bed. With an irritated tsk, he felt along Theon’s arms, legs, and ribs. “Have you been feeding him?”

“Feeding him?” Ramsay gaped. “I’m supposed to _feed_ him now?”

“He won’t eat without your permission.”

Ramsay sighed. “Fine, I’ll feed him tonight.”

“No wonder he’s not healing, if you’re not even feeding him. He probably gets enough water through the tank, but it’s been nearly two weeks, Ramsay. You’re lucky he hasn’t starved on you.” He went back to his examination. “The bone here is splintered. It won’t mend overnight. You need to keep him off his feet for at least three days while the nanites repair the damage.”

Ramsay rolled his eyes.

“He will not heal otherwise. Find other ways to get your _amusement_. Unless you lack imagination.” Qyburn gave him a wry, challenging smile that Ramsay probably would have punched off of anyone else’s face. As it was, Ramsay merely nodded. “Good, then we’re at an understanding. I’ll inject the nanites and get them working on this wound. You feed him something. He should be good as new in a week’s time.”

“I leave it in your hands, doc.” Ramsay patted Theon’s puffy, swollen cheek. It might have been gentle were if not for the nails racking over his skin. “I meant what I said back there. I don’t intend to let you go anytime soon.” He turned to go.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Qyburn called after him. “It might be wise to let the boy relieve himself every once in a while. If you leave him until his body relieves itself, you run the risk of damaging his kidneys. ”

Ramsay wrinkled his nose.

“Just my advice,” Qyburn said. “For long-term care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Murines:  
> Murines are mouse-people of Citadel Alpha. They are most known for their scientific innovations, especially in medicine. Some can be quite human-like in appearance, but Murines who express traits such as mouse ears, tail, or fur sometimes face discrimination based on old Earth stereotypes that rodents are “unclean.”


	11. Robb VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going to start to go off the rails here, so, uh...take a moment to reacquaint yourself with the tags. 
> 
> Good? Good.

Robb had never been good at pretending. He hadn’t been good at pretending Jeyne’s mother’s constant quips didn’t bother him. He hadn’t been good at pretending he was happy for Jon, joining the Night’s Watch to patrol the deepest, emptiest regions of the system. He hadn’t been good at pretending that everything was good and normal with Sansa when she’d first come back, and he hadn’t gotten any better with practice.

He didn’t know how he was going to pretend that his best friend, riding out the stress of being brutalized by a madman for the last cycle, hadn’t come to his room last night and confessed his feelings while simultaneously trying to fuck him. He hadn’t slept for the rest of the night, thinking about the odd encounter, running every little implication through his mind. Shit, how was he going to face his friend in the morning?

He decided the best thing would be to show Theon how much he’d forgotten their awkward moment. He got out of bed early and slipped out of the apartment, leaving a note in case Theon woke up before he got back and panicked. When he came back, Theon was still sound asleep in the guest room, with no indication that he’d so much as stirred. Robb quickly erased the message from his refrigerator’s message center and went about setting up his surprise.

Theon woke up when the artificial light hit the side of the apartment building. Robb could hear him stirring, then rummaging around inside. He came out dressed in the same pajamas Robb had given him last night. Even if he’d been at his peak physical fitness, they’d still be too large on him. Robb remembered with some fondness how pissy Theon had gotten when Robb had started to outstrip him in size. A natural species-dependent morphism, but it left Robb a full head taller than his friend. He’d buy Theon some better-fitting clothes later, when the resort downtown opened. They catered to the Piscene population at Winterfell, who were slender and lithe like the Krakens.

Theon paused as he came around the breakfast bar. “What’s this?”

“Breakfast,” Robb said as he slid the hot plate over the counter. “I hope you still like salmon.” He could tell from the way Theon’s tongue darted across his lips that he did.

Theon took a hesitant seat, studied the plate in front of him, reached for a fork, then seemed to think better.

“Go ahead and eat.”

At that, Theon’s hand shot out, and soon he was shoveling food into his mouth without taking a break to breathe. “It’s good,” he said through a mouthful. “It’s really good, Robb.” He sounded like he was going to cry. How long had it been since he’d had a decent meal? It was obvious Ramsay hadn’t put much thought into feeding his captive.

Robb shook that line of thinking off before it made him sad again.

“There’s something else,” he said as he leaned onto the counter.

Theon looked up, eyebrows raised.

“When was the last time you had a real bath?”

Theon stopped chewing.

“I mean—” Robb smacked himself on the forehead for how that had come out. Krakens, like Piscenes, tended to…well, they tended to smell like fish when they dried out. And Theon was pretty dried out. Not that it had bothered Robb—his wolf’s sense of smelling was beyond that—but it was obvious Theon needed something more than a waterless shower. “Gods, I mean, I’m going to treat you to a water bath at the Piscene resort downtown. If, you know, that sounds like something you want to do.”

Theon swallowed. “That sounds great, but…” He tapped the fork against the side of the plate thoughtfully.

“No, it _will_ be great,” Robb said quickly. “I talked to Old Man Manderly, who owns the resort, and he’d be happy to give us a private pool. It’ll be in an enclosed place, no one around. All the private pools have thermostats. I asked because I knew you tend like water on the cooler side. It’s part of a four-star hotel, so you know the service has got to be top-notch.” He realized he was pushing and backed off. “But if that sort of thing doesn’t appeal to you…”

“It really does sound great,” Theon said, “but you don’t need to do that for me.”

“Nonsense. Manderly owes me a favor. Like, a lifetime of favors. He’s willing to give us his best pool for free. I want you to go…if _you_ want to go, that is.” Robb kept his hands at his side to keep his fingers from running nervously over the edge of the counter. “Don’t feel like I’m pressuring you, but also don’t feel like you’re burdening me or anything.”

Theon scratched at his arm. “It has been a long time since I’ve been in water.” He flashed an uncertain smile. “Okay, I accept your offer, Robb Stark.”

***

Theon came to life in the water like a wilted flower after rain. His skin had already taken on a healthier shade of blue as he lounged up to his neck in the pool, enough to cover his gills but not enough to get his healing scars wet. He looked much better after a night’s rest. “You have no idea,” he said with a moan that made Robb blush from his lounge chair. “It’s been so long.”

“Is the temperature good for you?” he called over the side. “I can turn the thermostat down if you want.”

“It’s wonderful, Robb. It could be boiling and it’d feel wonderful.” He looked so relaxed, stretched out underwater, head leaning against the side of the pool, eyes closed in bliss. “Don’t suppose you’d join me?”

Robb swallowed and folded his hands over his lap. Last night had made everything awkward. Was Theon simply doing his best to pretend it hadn’t happened, or was he actively making moves now? Either way, it didn’t feel right to think of Theon like that, whether that was his goal or not. Just because Robb had once had a crush on the older boy didn’t mean he still did, or that he’d even _want_ to think about Theon that way. Not after all that he’d gone through.

The swimming suit didn’t exactly hide the damage Ramsay had done to his body. Manderly had done Robb another solid by letting Theon use the club’s full-body suits, favored by furrier patrons. The smallest they could find had been a child’s size, and while it did well to hide most of Theon’s skin, there were still patches that showed through where the sleeves and legs weren’t as long as they should be. The white of healing scars stood out against the pale blue of the rest of the skin, little crosshatches and cuts, some made with the precision of a laser cutter, others made with old-fashioned blades. His neck was ring of bite marks. Robb’s canine instincts knew them immediately. They were territory marks, the way his wolf ancestors would bite the nape of their mate’s neck. Dogs did this too, in some cases. Apparently Ramsay’s ancestors had.

Theon didn’t want to share details about his imprisonment, and Robb was reluctant to bring it up, but he suspected there had been a sexual element to Ramsay’s control. “ _I’ll have to go back to pretending it’s you_.” That, coupled with Theon’s late-night confession, made for some serious transference issues, and Robb was _not_ going to take advantage of Theon’s confusion. It was unconscionable.

So, intentional or not, Robb would not rise to Theon’s bait.

He forced a good-natured laugh at Theon’s invitation. “And subject you to wet dog smell the rest of the day? What kind of monster do you take me for?”

It was meant as a joke, but he regretted saying it when Theon sat up and turned to him with a very serious expression. “I know monsters, Robb Stark. And you’re no monster.”

The peaceful moment was broken. Robb leaned forward on his knees and fiddled his fingers nervously. “I’m sorry. I’m stupid.” He hated this. He and Theon used to joke so casually between themselves, exchanging banter with ease and comfort. Now it felt like walking on eggshells. Still, it was infinitely better than not having him at all. It was infinitely better than not knowing whether he was alive or not.

He still remembered what that was like, to wake up and find his best friend wasn’t in his room across the hall. At first he’d only been worried that Theon had gone home with someone he met at the bar. He had no trouble picking up Lycan men and women alike, both of whom seemed drawn to his exotic good looks, so this wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. But then noon came around, and Robb thought to call Theon’s personal com-line. No one had picked up. Night had set, and Robb had really begun to worry. Theon liked the cold, but even he couldn’t survive a Lycan winter night. Had he even taken warm clothing with him? To find out, Robb had gone into Theon’s room and looked about to see if anything was missing. The room was in a disarray, more so than usual, like Theon had torn out of there in a thoughtless hurry. No note. No sign of a struggle, either.

Robb was frantic after that, and he put a call in to the police. They ran a trace on his ID card but came up with nothing. Theon wasn’t on the planet anymore. Since there was no sign of foul play, and since Theon wasn’t a Lycan citizen, the Lycan police couldn’t do much.

For the first few days, Robb had gone out searching himself, calling to any potential place Theon might have gone. He’d gotten a brisk denial from Theon’s family on Pyke. Theon’s on-again/off-again girlfriend from Canidae hadn’t seen him either. It wasn’t like Theon had an abundance of friends, so the trail went cold very quickly. Robb had felt so helpless, until Jon had offered to keep an eye out for the missing Kraken, since his new job as a member of the Night’s Watch would have him traveling all around the system.

Theon couldn’t have known how much he occupied Robb’s thoughts in those first months. But then the split with Jeyne had happened, and then the thing with Sansa had happened, and Robb had been very busy. The memory of Theon faded, but it had remained. Anger faded to sadness. And Robb had moved on.

Now, knowing what Theon had been going through all that time, knowing _why_ Theon had left, Robb was angry for not trying harder.

Almost as if Theon could read these melancholy thoughts, he stood suddenly and announced, “I’m ready to go.” The sound of splashing brought Robb back to himself, and he watched the water cascade off the wetsuit that clung to Theon’s skin like a second layer.

Krakens were naturally thin, more adapted to the seas of their home planets, but Theon was slight even by their standards. He’d always been built lean, with delicate bone structure and shoulders narrower than even a female Lycan. Having lost what little weight he had, his skin clung to his bones in a way that was obvious even under his wetsuit. Robb hurried to hand him a towel, more to cover himself than to dry.

Theon nodded thankfully and wrapped it over his shoulders. The bite marks on his neck were covered with the soft whiteness of the towel.

“I was thinking we could stop by the gift shop and pick you up some clothes that fit,” Robb said, thinking turtlenecks and scarves, long-sleeved shirts, ankle-length pants, anything to make Theon more comfortable.

Theon pulled the towel tighter, as if to suggest he wasn’t going anywhere where people could see him in his state of undress.

Robb lifted his hand to reassure him. “I’ll go talk to Manderly about it. I’m sure he’d be happy to let me bring a few things in here for you to try on.”

Theon nodded, and a relieved look came over his face. He hadn’t wanted to change in the men’s changing room either, not that Robb could blame him.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. You still like black?”

Theon scoffed playfully. “Do I _look_ like Jon Targaryen to you?”

Robb hurried and came back with an armload of clothes in all different colors, mostly comfortable pants with adjustable waists and solid-color t-shirts with the White Harbor Resort mermaid on the back. It was all kitschy tourist stuff, but they were more flattering on him than Robb’s oversized pajamas.

Perhaps it was the color of the clothes, but he seemed to be growing greener every time Robb turned around to see some new outfit. There was no mistaking it when Theon finally tried on a paisley-green t-shirt that shouldn’t have matched his skin tone but did.

“You okay?” Robb hurried to his side. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you so much.”

“I’m fine,” Theon argued, waving him off. “I just…I’m not used to eating so regularly.” He smiled sheepishly, like it was a joke and not a horrible reference to being starved for over a cycle. “My stomach’s just catching up with me.”

His cheeks flared green, and Robb hurried to pat his back. “Are you going to…?”

“No.” Theon visibly swallowed. The sickly coloring remained. “I’m fine, really. And I really needed this. Thank you. But…maybe we could go back now?”

 

***

 

He seemed to have recovered in the short time it took to travel from the resort to Robb’s apartment. He was remarkably less green in the lift to the top floor, despite Robb’s worry that the enclosed space would only make him sicker. It must have been the resort then. All those people, all that noise and commotion. He’d thought the privacy of the pool would block the worst of it out, but he should have guessed Theon’s sensitivity to these things would be through the roof.

“Why don’t you go lie down?” Robb suggested. “Is there something I can get to help settle your stomach?”

“I’m fine,” Theon repeated for the umpteenth time. “I just need to…to…” He bolted for the bathroom, leaving his sentence unfinished and hanging.

The guilt Robb had successfully allayed by doing something thoughtful for Theon came crashing back. Theon had tried to tell him he didn’t want to go, but he’d pushed anyway. He’d so badly wanted things to go back to normal that now he’d made his friend, quite literally, sick with worry.

He leaned his ear against the door and listened to the sounds of retching inside. Theon hadn’t bothered to lock the door in his hurry, but it wouldn’t be wise to barge in, even if it was just to help. He didn’t want to risk ruining things worse than he already had.

“Theon, I’m going to call the doctor, okay?”

“No,” a pitiful voice came from within. “I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor.”

“Yes you do. What if you’re having a reaction to the medication they gave you at the hospital? What if this is a complication from the surgery?”

“It’s nothing. It’s probably just food poisoning.”

Which would also make it Robb’s fault, since he’d made the only meal Theon had eaten today.

“I still think it’s smart to call the doctor. I’ll have her come here for a house call.”

“No!” The protest was louder this time. “I said I’m fine. It’s nothing serious.” More retching. “Absolutely no doctors!”

This was getting ridiculous. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to know!”

“Know what?”

More retching. A pause.

“Know what, Theon?”

“If I’m pregnant!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piscenes:  
> Piscenes are perhaps the most diverse species, with Earth roots going back to any and all manner of Earth fish. They vary in color, vibrancy, and patterns, though they tend towards more slender builds. Like Krakens, they have gills on their necks, allowing them to breathe the water of the Piscean oceans. They are more mammalian than Krakens, however, as most have skin and hair, as opposed to scales. They have no central form of government or royal family, instead operating on something like a clan system. They’re generally very easygoing people.


	12. Theon V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes noncon, more implied than graphic, but I'm posting two chapters today in case some readers want to skip this chapter. 
> 
> Warnings:  
> Noncon  
> Slut shaming  
> Victim blaming  
> Mentions of [knotting](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canine_reproduction#Copulation) (I'm hitting all the A/B/O tropes and this ain't even an A/B/O story)

Ramsay made changes to the _Sea Bitch_. And not just in command. He delighted in showing Theon these changes, how he had ripped out entire consoles and replaced them with inorganic technology. He got rid of every aqua bed and chamber onboard, from the general quarters to the recreation deck. He removed every bit of furniture and décor with the Greyjoys’ royal crest on it, and what he couldn’t remove he simply lasered off or hacked away. The money he made from selling these things went to the replacement furniture, mostly gold-plated monstrosities imported from Leonia, as the port they’d landed in specialized in such things.

The one exception was the monstrous bed he bought to replace the aqua bed in Theon’s chambers. It took two burly Ursine dockworkers to bring the thing aboard. The frame was a sleek, polished leather and the sheets were real fur—it was a bed made of dead things. Red, silken drapes were brought in to cover the luminescent walls, and thick carpeting was rolled in to cover the hard floors. It clashed terribly, but Ramsay was pleased.

Theon knew Ramsay was repurposing his room and wondered where that would leave him. He’d been spending his nights on the cold floor, since Ramsay refused to learn to use the aqua bed. The shag carpeting was ugly, but it would be softer than the floor. Though Theon suspected he would more likely be relegated to one of the lesser quarters, or even the brig.

He was surprised on the first night after leaving port when Ramsay beckoned him to follow, as per usual. Well, _not_ per usual, because usually Ramsay would just leave him on the floor and then leave. Tonight, however, he sealed the door behind them and ordered Theon to get onto bed.

Theon began to crawl onto the bed, wishing he didn’t have to be so efficient about it. _Is he going to stay? Of course he’s going to stay, this is_ his _bed. He didn’t get it for_ me _._ The mattress was soft and dipped under his weight, such as it was. He hadn’t slept in a traditional bed since Lyca, and while it wasn’t like aqua-sleeping, he had to admit there was a certain comfort to it. At least, there would be if Ramsay wasn’t still in the room, shrugging off his red coat. _Oh God. Is he…is he going to…he wouldn’t!_

Ramsay hadn’t shown any intention that he wanted to…do that. Not to Theon.

Images of that captain’s daughter flashed before his eyes. Yes, Ramsay was capable of…that. But he…Theon…

Ramsay unbuckled his belt and continued undressing. “You lived on Lyca for several years, didn’t you?”

Theon didn’t answer.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever fucked a canine?” A pause to consider. “Answer the question.”

“Yes.”

He sneered. “I’ll bet you have. You seem like the slutty type. I can smell a virgin for miles, and you’re no virgin.” He unbuttoned his shirt and let it slide to the floor. His back was still a mass of healing scars. He paused a moment to feel the raised skin along his ribs, where Theon had struck deliberately to cause the most pain and damage. That was fleeting, though, because next he was moving on to his pants. “Never fucked a fish, myself. Have you ever been knotted?”

Theon’s tongue swelled in his throat.

“Answer the question.”

“No.” No, he’d never been with a Lycan or a Canid who’d actually had a knot. Or, at least, none that had knotted him. That was…personal. That was an act of “mating,” what other species might call lovemaking. On one occasion, a male Lycan he’d hooked up with for a one-night stand had pulled out early, and when Theon had angrily asked what the matter was, the man had said he’d felt his knot forming. When he’d asked Robb about it later, Robb had gone bright red and said the man had been right to pull out. It wasn’t something you did with just anyone.

By now Theon was under no illusions about what Ramsay was planning. Qyburn had said to be more creative, and so here he was. Lying on his back on a strange bed, in a room that had once been his, on a ship that had once been his. His body wasn’t well and truly his anymore either, so it stood to reason that Ramsay was going to tear this one last thing away.

He could hear it in the malicious glee of Ramsay’s smirk. The Canid hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and slid them down his thighs. His back was still turned, and all Theon could see was his backside, as pale as the rest of him.

“In that case, I should probably warn you.” He hunched up his shoulders then loosened them out, then he turned to reveal his monstrous cock, already half-hard. No way. No way was that thing going inside him. Not one way or the other. Ramsay didn’t seem too concerned as he gave himself an absentminded stroke. “This is going to hurt.”

 

***

 

Orders Ramsay gave Theon over the next cycle:

_Come here._

_Take the ship to stealth mode._

_Fire at the hull._

_Fire at the escape pods._

_Scan for lifeforms. Confirm all dead._

_Don’t scream._

_Stand perfectly still like that._

_Eat everything on your plate._

_Eat three bites._

_Look but don’t eat._

_Use your hands._

_Use your mouth._

_Show him a good time._

_Show_ them _a good time._

_Smile while you’re doing it._

_Stop smiling._

_Use the bathroom._

_Hold it._

_Get on your back._

_Get on your stomach._

_Ride it._

_Look like you’re enjoying it._

_Tell me you love me._

_Tell me how much you love me._

_Tell me you love me._

_Brace yourself as you see fit._

_Get on your knees._


	13. Robb VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer. I hate Talisa. I actually like a lot of the show-only characters, but Talisa is such a Mary Sue and she clashes with the asoiaf/got world. That being said, she fits better in a more progressive, space age story, so I don't think she's terribly out of place here. (I also needed a female doctor, for reasons.) If you're a Talisa fan, don't worry. I don't smack her around or anything.

“What?” Had he heard that right? The walls were pretty thick and the bathroom door was pretty sturdy. He must have misheard it. He laughed to himself. “For a moment, I thought you said you were afraid you were _pregnant_.”

Nothing from inside.

“Hey.” Robb rapped his knuckles on the door. “Are you okay in there?” He turned the knob slowly. “I’m coming in. Is that okay?”

Still no answer.

The door opened smoothly to reveal Theon hunched over the toilet, face green and eyes black. He’d thrown up the salmon breakfast into the bowl, and his hand reached out for the button to flush it away. Robb hurried to do it for him and then sank down beside his friend to pat soothing motions on his back.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Theon said miserably. He wiped the snot and vomit from his face with the back of his arm. “Kraken DNA…our ancestors…” He sniffled, and Robb got up long enough to bring him a wet washcloth to wipe his face with. “Kraken males…when there are no females around, the smallest one will start to…change. He becomes…functionally female, until he can be in the presence of other female Krakens. Same thing with females…if no males are around. It’s…it’s a breeding habit we picked up from our Earth ancestors.”

Robb thought about that. He’d heard something similar about Serpentines, who could take on the appearance of either male or female. But that was just an aesthetic; Serpentines still remained the sex they were born as, despite any outward appearances. He also knew that some species of fish were sequential hermaphrodites, changing from male to female based on life cycle or environmental factors. He’d just never known it to be a characteristic bred into any of the water-dwelling species.

Robb remembered with renewed horror how he had felt nothing between Theon’s legs when their thighs had accidentally brushed last night. “Are you…are you fully female?” he asked, awkwardly.

Theon shook his head. “I still have my—I still have everything. But it’s kind of like…I can feel my insides shifting. And it’s…it’s wet. It’s opening up. It feels like…God, it feels like someone’s grinding my gut up.” He clutched his stomach. “I don’t want to know, Robb.”

“I know you don’t, but this could be serious. I’ll call the doctor. She’ll be right over. She’ll be very discreet, I promise. And…if you are…pregnant…” He swallowed around that word. “We’ll deal with it, okay?”

Theon hung his head on the lip of the toilet bowl. His shoulders began to shake spasmodically. “Oh, God, what if I _am_ pregnant? What if I’m carrying Ramsay’s half-breed bastard?”

 

***

 

The doctor was incredulous over the com-line, but she agreed to make a house call once Robb had explained the situation to her. Well, not _fully_ explained. He’d said there was a complication of Ramsay’s abuse and that Theon wanted it handled delicately or not at all. A soft knock at the door came ten minutes after he hung up.

He answered to a delicate-looking Ovine woman, one he recognized as an attending nurse from yesterday. She bowed in apology before coming in. “I’m sorry,” she began. “We couldn’t spare the head doctor, but I’ll have you know that I’m a fully certified nurse practitioner and currently training for my full medical license. My name’s Talisa.” She craned her neck looking about. “Where is the…er, patient?”

Theon was sitting on the bed in the guest room with his head between his knees. He looked up when Robb showed the nurse in.

“You’re looking better,” she said with an encouraging smile. “Your color’s better.”

When he didn’t reply, she coughed awkwardly and began rummaging around in the medical bag she’d brought. “I see your wounds are healing. That’s good.” She pulled out a stethoscope and hung it around her neck. “But they tell me you’re not feeling too well. Mind telling me what’s going on?”

“How much do you know about Kraken biology?” Robb said, speaking up on Theon’s behalf.

Talisa turned to him as she snapped on a pair of surgical gloves. “A bit. I admit, I know more about Piscenes, but the two are fairly close, genetic-wise. The same way Lycans and Canids are. Of course, there are always complications when you mix non-mammalian DNA with humans’, so—”

“Like sequential hermaphroditism?”

Talisa looked at him seriously. Then she looked over her shoulder Theon. Then back to Robb. “This isn’t about the surgery at all, is it?”

Between the two of them, Robb and Theon were able to explain the situation—the _possible_ situation—to the nurse. She maintained a professional air throughout, only interrupting to ask questions. She rolled with the punches well and never once gave any indication that she didn’t believe it. Though, as a nurse, she’d probably seen her fair share of bizarre medical problems.

“So…when did you first notice the…cramping?” she asked.

“This morning. When I got up.”

She nodded and made a note on her tablet. “And you say it got worse when you went to the resort?”

He nodded again, and Robb felt another jolt of guilt. Had he somehow made the situation worse?

“Well…” She patted his knee. He didn’t recoil, but his irises constricted. “The good news is, it’s highly unlikely you’re pregnant. From what you’ve told me, Krakens don’t spontaneously change from male to female. It only happens when there is an abundance of male Kraken pheromones in the environment. Would you say that’s correct?”

“That’s how it was explained to me, yes.”

She turned to Robb next. “And there were no Kraken males aboard the ship you confiscated yesterday?”

“Theon was the only one.”

“Then the change has happened since he’s been here in the last forty-eight hours.” She flipped through the information on her tablet. “Now, since there aren’t a lot of Kraken males aboard Winterfell—”

“None,” Robb corrected. “No females, either.”

“Yes, but Piscene pheromones are similar on a chemical level. It might just be that, going so long without exposure to any sort of Kraken pheromone, Theon’s body has responded to all the Piscenes aboard. Of course, that’s just a theory at this point. I have tests you can take to confirm you’re not pregnant. They weren’t designed for males, so I can’t guarantee you’ll get the most accurate results.” Her smile turned into a grimace. “Actually, the best method would be to…do a physical exam.”

“He doesn’t want any invasive tests done,” Robb said, but Theon held up his hand to silence him.

“Ramsay raped my mind, Robb. There’s nothing she could do that would be more violating than that.” He turned his eyes to her, but it seemed her words had given him relief, if not a little bit of courage. “Can we do it here?”

“Of course. It won’t take more than a few minutes.”

“Okay. Robb…could you maybe wait outside?”

Robb couldn’t blame Theon for wanting privacy, but it still hurt. It was for the best, he told himself as he waited by the door, head leaned back against the wall. He didn’t _want_ to see. He didn’t want to know if Theon had changed enough to actually carry a child. Because it was wrong. It was wrong and disgusting to have hope when the person in question was far too fragile, mentally and physically. It made him sick to think about Theon growing round with his child.

True to Talisa’s words, it only took them a moment. Three minutes and forty-three seconds, to be exact. The door opened and they emerged, Theon yanking the cord of his new pants closed with an embarrassed, black blush on his face.

“It is physically impossible for Theon to be pregnant at this time,” Talisa announced. “His…he’s not fully developed yet. However, if my hypothesis is correct and the Piscenes on this station are the ones triggering the change, he will continue to develop until he is a fully functional female. My suggestion: Send him home to Kraken.”

The blush left Theon’s face.

“That’s not happening,” Robb said. “He’s not well enough to travel. Isn’t there something else?”

Talisa cocked her head in thought. “I suppose if you could bring a female Kraken here, that might help reverse the change.”

“Asha,” Robb said, a half-remembered name Theon had told him off-handedly. “That’s your sister’s name, right? Could she come here on short notice?”

“She could.” Theon rubbed at his shoulder. “I don’t know if she would.”

“Even if I explained the situation?”

“Don’t!” He threw himself at Robb and clung to his shirt. “You can’t let my family or any other Krakens know. If they knew I was…that I’d allowed myself…”

Robb put a hand against Theon’s cheek, the way he had yesterday, with the same effect. Theon relaxed and leaned into his touch. “Theon, you didn’t _allow_ this happen to you. You didn’t allow Ramsay to perform brain surgery on you. You didn’t allow your body to react the way it did.”

“They won’t see it that way.”

“None of this is your fault.”

“Really?” Theon looked up into his eyes. “ _None_ of it?”

“Sorry.” Robb put his hands up in a plea for forgiveness. He remembered how Theon had responded when he’d suggested the same thing at the hospital. If taking some responsibility for what happened helped Theon cope with the situation, he wouldn’t push it. “I just meant…I’m sure your family will understand.”

Theon sighed and slumped over the couch, looking about as tired as Robb had ever seen him. “You’ve never met my family. You weren’t there when your father had to take me away. Do you know, in the eight cycles I lived with your family, I didn’t get a single message from my own?”

Robb had known. He’d just never thought about it that much, and he’d assumed Theon hadn’t either. He’d always seemed happy enough on Lyca.

“Uh…” Talisa cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to butt in, but…” She trailed off, looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” Robb offered. “I’m sure you don’t want to get involved in all this. I appreciate you coming over and helping. So much. Like, you have no idea.” He grabbed her hand, even though she hadn’t offered it, and shook it vigorously.

“Could you not tell anyone?” Theon piped up, peering over the edge of the sofa.

She nodded. “Doctor-patient confidentiality. I’ll tell the on-staff doctor it was a personal matter.” She smiled sheepishly and tucked a strand of wooly hair behind her ear. “If you have any further concerns, be sure to ask for me by name. Talisa Maegyar, RN.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ovines:  
> Many people make the mistake in assuming that because Ovines are genetically engineered from sheep that they are docile. While they can be pleasant, even friendly, they have a strict hierarchy of dominance among their own ranks and are often combative with other species—think ram, not ewe. Their wool-like hair is either white or black, with very little in-between shades; their skin tone runs the gamut of human colors. Males sometimes have horns. Some have cloven hooves.
> 
> Additional notes:  
> I used the "alien biology" tag, but [ sequential hermaphorditism](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sequential_hermaphroditism) is a pretty common reproductive strategy in the animal kingdom, especially in invertebrates.


	14. Robb VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for all the lovely comments. Writing is half the fun; the other half if hearing from all of you.

After Talisa left, Robb came to join Theon on the couch. He tensed up a bit when Theon scooted over to lean against him, expecting a rerun of last night’s awkward would-be seduction. Instead, Theon simply rested his head on Robb’s shoulder. He hardly weighed anything, so it wasn’t any great burden to let him rest like that. Robb even reached out and ran his fingers through Theon’s tendrils the way he had last night to calm him down.

“I think we should try to contact Asha,” he said.

“She hates me.”

“I don’t think that’s true. Siblings sometimes say they hate each other…just look at Arya and Sansa. But when the chips were down, Arya was there for Sansa. She came from three systems over, just because her sister needed her.” He snapped his fingers, remembering. “Oh, I talked to Sansa the other day. She seems to be doing pretty well. I thought maybe you’d want to talk with her, since she knows what you’ve been through.” He didn’t add, _And because you don’t seem to want to talk to me_.

Theon didn’t reply right away. “I’ll think about it.”

“She was really worried about you, when I talked to her.”

He lifted his head at that. “She was?”

“Of course she was. She’s known you since she was a kid. You’re as much her brother as I am. We were all worried about you when you disappeared. Even Jon. Even _my mom_.”

“ _No_ ,” Theon snorted, as if it were a joke. “Catelyn hated me.”

“Okay, maybe she was more worried because she didn’t know what you were up to,” Robb admitted. “But she never _hated_ you. She’s not as cold a woman as you and Jon always made her out to be. When I told her about…how we’d found you, she was genuinely worried.” He held Theon’s head between his hands in a gentle cradle. “We’ll call Asha. If she doesn’t come, fuck her. I’ll find another way to take care of you.”

He did not expect Theon to break his hold and close the space between them. He was only aware of it when he felt wet, slightly cold lips against his own. Theon was moving against him, trying to get him to respond, but he only pushed Theon back.

“I thought we were going to pretend last night didn’t happen.”

Theon stared with wide eyes, jaw slack, as if he couldn’t believe it—either that he’d actually done something so brazen or that Robb had rejected him for it.

“It’s not a good idea,” Robb continued, fingers moving disbelievingly over his own lips. They were still moist. If it had been under different circumstances, and if he’d had a little warning, he might have enjoyed it. As it was, he felt as if he’d been taken advantage of. As if Theon were capable of taking advantage of anyone in his current state.

Theon worked his jaw open and closed, looking more like his cuttlefish ancestors. Finally, he clamped his mouth shut with a click. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want that kind of relationship with you, Theon.” He hated having to say this, but it was true. He stood. “Not right now.”

Theon remained seated, hands folded in his lap. His gaze was not on Robb, but rather some faraway place, like he was processing this.

“I’m sorry,” Robb said, because he was. Sorry that he couldn’t give Theon what he _thought_ he needed. But that was the thing. Theon only thought he needed this, wanted this. In truth, it was probably the last thing he needed, and the last thing Robb _wanted_. Even with half-remembered boyhood crushes, even with sinful images of Theon on his bed, willing and begging, even with his wolf side telling him to throw his willing partner on the floor and claim him, Robb didn’t want it. Or want to want it.

Theon stared at his clasped hands. “Do you…think I’m repulsive?”

_The opposite_ , Robb wanted to say, but he wouldn’t be so cruel to lift his hopes. “Of course not.”

“Is it because I’m not a Lycan?”

“It’s because you’re my friend,” Robb answered as truthfully as he could. “My brother.”

When Theon spoke next, it was too quickly. “I understand.” He stood as well. “My stomach still hurts. I’m going to rest for a bit.”

“Yeah…sure…” Robb went to pat his shoulder, then thought better of it and kept his arms to himself. “That’s probably a good idea.” They both needed time to sort themselves out, move out of this state of confusion. Things had always seemed so easy and natural between them, but looking back, maybe it had always been this strained. The thought saddened Robb, and he started towards his home office to burry himself in work. Gods knew there was plenty to keep his mind occupied.

First thing first, though. He needed to find a way to get in touch with Asha Greyjoy.

He’d never met Theon’s sister, but by all descriptions, she was a…prickly person. Impatient, condescending, rough and vulgar. These were all words Theon had bantered about back on Lyca. Robb had never said anything, but it sounded like the Greyjoy siblings were more alike than they let on.

After much searching and several transferred calls, Robb found himself on a suspicious line, unmonitored and with no visual feedback. The sort of line a shady person would use for shady business. “Asha Greyjoy?” he asked.

Static for a moment, then a female voice saying, “How did you get this line?”

“My name is Robb Stark. I’m looking for Theon Greyjoy’s sister.”

Whatever he’d been expecting, and whatever _Theon_ had been expecting, all it took was that name for Asha to come around. Still without visual feed, the voice came off as concerned, if perhaps a bit frustrated, as Robb recounted the situation. She didn’t interrupt or ask any questions, and when he came to the end, she simply said, “Right, I’m catching the next shuttle off of Pyke headed towards Winterfell. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tell the git not to go anywhere before I get there.” And then the line went dead.

So, that went better than he’d planned, Robb supposed.

He worked for the next few hours, catching up with his secretary, his advisors, and his staff members, citing a “family emergency” as his excuse for not checking in with them sooner. No one asked for an elaboration, and Robb plowed ahead with the business that needed tending to. His staff were competent people, and they’d been picking up the slack for him. He thanked them profusely and promised them time off.

Overall, it wasn’t a terribly productive day, but it passed a few hours. When the artificial light began to dim, Robb ventured from his office and knocked hesitantly at Theon’s door. “Is your stomach still upset?” he asked to no response. “I was thinking about making dinner…”

He paused to wait for an answer. None came.

“Hey, are you okay in there?”

He pressed his ear against the door and strained to hear noises, any sort of noises, that might indicate Theon was in distress. Nothing.

“Can I come in?”

He thumbed the door’s keypad. It was unlocked.

“I’m coming in,” he warned as he opened the door, slowly, slowly.

The bed sheets were rumpled up, suggesting he’d tried to go the sleep, or had at least lain down for a bit. He wasn’t there now, though.

In a panic, Robb ran to the closets and threw back the sliding doors.

Theon wasn’t there.

He checked under the bed.

Theon wasn’t there.

He checked behind the door, then out in the hall, then everywhere in the apartment he could think to look: the bathroom, the kitchen, the living room, his own room.

Theon wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere.

He was gone.


	15. Robb IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for another short update later.

“The Kraken ship’s in lockdown,” Jon said, sounding confused at Robb’s panicked call, the third such one in half an hour. “There’s no way anyone’s getting onboard and no way in seven hells anyone’s making off with it.”

“Step up security,” Robb snapped. He hated that he couldn’t stop himself from snapping. Especially at Jon. “You see anyone near the harbor who’s not supposed to be there, you call me, understand?”

“Sure,” Jon said in a way that suggested he really didn’t. He’d been helpful so far, sending out a call for a missing person, but Robb could hear the impatience in his voice.

“Okay, out with it,” Robb said.

“Excuse me?”

“You think I’m overreacting don’t you?”

“No, I think you’re right to worry about a young man who’s not in his right mind wandering around on a space station he’s unfamiliar with. It’s just…” His eyes darted to the left and right of the screen, as if checking to see if anyone was around. “Look, I’m sure you know more about the details than I do, but how possible do you really think it is that Theon would try to break into the place where he was held captive for over a cycle?”

Robb hadn’t thought of that. He’d been more worried that Theon would try to take off in the ship he’d stolen from his father’s fleet. That would bring the Night’s Watch, as well as a dozen other inter-system law enforcement agencies, down on him like a hammer, and he was already in enough trouble as it was.

“Okay,” Robb agreed. “But I still want to know if he shows up in the harbor. I don’t want him leaving this station.”

“Um…” Jon began again, haltingly. He had more to say. “I know he’s your key witness in the case you’re building against Ramsay Bolton, but…it’s not like you can keep him here if he doesn’t want to be here. Unless…you’re planning on pressing charges against him, too.” He lowered his voice. “Like I said, I don’t know all the details, but if Theon’s in some sort of trouble with the law…”

“No,” Robb lied. “I’m just worried about him. He’s not in his right mind.”

“Well…have you checked the hospital?”

“Talisa would have called me if he’d shown up there.”

“Who?”

“Never mind.” Robb sighed in defeat. “Thanks, Jon, I really appreciate it.”

“Sure, cuz. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”

Robb ended the call and hurried to fit his boots on. Every minute he spent fiddling with the laces was a minute he should be spending tracking Theon down. Besides the harbor and the hospital, he had no idea where the wayward Kraken might have gone. The surveillance cams located outside the apartment complex showed he’d left on foot, alone, over an hour ago. He’d been clutching his stomach.

Just as Robb had managed to get his left boot on, his personal com line blinked. He hurried to answer, hoping it was Theon then realizing he’d never given Theon his line number.

“Robb.” It was Old Man Manderly, from White Harbor Resort. He was enormous by most species’ standards, but by Piscene standards, he was absolutely bloated. His face hardly fit in the com screen. Some people joked that he was more Cetacean than Piscene, but he was a friendly man and, as Robb had told Theon earlier, he owed Robb favors for the rest of eternity. “Your…friend,” he grimaced at the world, “is down at my resort.” He did not look happy about that. “We’re keeping him here for you. I didn’t see any reason to contact the authorities.”

“The authorities?” Robb’s pulse quickened.

“Harassing some of my female customers,” Manderly said. “Trying to get into the women’s changing room. Getting too close to a few of them.”

“Oh, Gods,” Robb sighed. “Piscene women?”

“Look, can you tell your friend that there are places in the red light district that are more than happy to cater to his species fetish, but I—”

“I’m sorry,” Robb cut him off. “He’s…going through some things right now. I’m sure he didn’t mean to frighten your customers. Could you just…hold him there? I’ll be right down.”

Manderly hmph’d. “I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.”

“I know. I appreciate it.” It felt like he was calling in all his favors today. First with Jon, then with Manderly. Next he’d be calling up the Mormonts and reminding them of the blood pact they’d sworn to the Starks centuries ago.

He hurried across town, catching the shuttle to shave off five minutes. He burst through the resort doors and threw himself at the receptionist, who seemed to know exactly who he was and pointed the way to Manderly’s office. It was there that he found Theon, seated in a chair, hunched over and hugging his stomach as if in pain. He looked so tiny and harmless that the two security guards watching over him seemed like overkill.

“Theon!” He ran and knelt down in front of the huddled form, but Theon turned his eyes away. “What were you thinking?”

In truth, he could probably guess what Theon had been thinking: If being around male Piscenes had put him in his current state, then being around female Piscenes might put him back. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t seem to have worked, because he looked just as miserable as ever.

Theon allowed Robb to escort him out of the office, and the guards let them go. Once alone, Robb steered Theon into an empty hallway. “We need to talk,” he hissed. Now that the panic was over, anger was seeping in. “That was really reckless of you.”

“I can handle myself,” Theon muttered, seemingly directed at his feet. “I don’t need your permission. Or _do_ I need that now? You want me to do what you want, too, hmm? Just like _him_ , I suppose.”

Robb was so angry he could have hit Theon, but that wouldn’t help anything. “Why are you being like this? Are you really that mad that I rejected your advances?”

Theon flinched at that.

“You think I’m obligated to be in a relationship with you just because you put your feelings out there?”

“Stop talking,” Theon growled.

“I’m your friend, Theon. I’ll always be your friend. Just because I don’t have those sorts of feelings for you doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Theon leaned his head against the wall and sank down into a crouch. “Leave me alone.”

“I can’t. I won’t.”

“Why? Because you feel sorry for me, is that it?” The sound of teeth grinding together was painful. “You’re right. I’m mad that there’s nothing I can do to get you to love me. I’m a manipulative little fuck. I knew you’d never love me, but I thought if I could get a pity fuck, maybe that would be good enough. But of course not. You’re too good for me. I don’t even mean that sarcastically. I’ve always known you were too good for me. And if _Jeyne_ wasn’t good enough for you, what chance do I have?”

“Theon…”

“Don’t touch me!” Theon recoiled when Robb laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sick. I’m disgusting. I’m a freak. Who’d want me the way I am now? Do you know why my father wouldn’t give me my own warship? Because he knew this would happen. He told me so. He said I was the smallest and the weakest and when the change started, the other men on board would… He didn’t want his son to become the ship’s whore.”

Robb was silent, at a loss for words.

“Turns out I didn’t even need to go through the change to become the ship’s whore. My father was right. He was right about everything. And I…I’ve never been right about anything. Ever.” He covered his head with his arms. “I just want to die.”

“No.” Robb was on his knees in an instant. “Don’t say that. Don’t _ever_ say that. _I_ don’t want you to die.”

“It’d make things easier for you.”

“Maybe,” Robb admitted, “but it would also make my life worse.”

Theon snorted.

“You’re my best friend,” Robb continued. “You’ve always been my best friend. And when I thought I’d lost you…when I thought you hated me…it was unbearable.”

Theon lifted his head. “You thought I hated you?”

“For a long time, I thought that’s why you’d left.”

“I was jealous. I never _hated_ you. I could never _hate_ you, Robb.”

“And _I_ could never hate _you_.” He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He desperately wanted to pull Theon into a hug and show him how much he cared, but he couldn’t. The time wasn’t right. It would be unwelcome, for both of them. “Look, if I’m being truthful with you…yes, maybe I’ve thought about being in a relationship with you. More than once. And maybe I’ve been having those thoughts since you came back into my life. But it’s too soon. It’s too soon for me, and it’s too soon for you. I don’t think either of us should even be thinking like that. And I think you know that too.”

Theon gave a tiny, shame-filled nod.

“Right now, the thing we need to focus on is taking things one day at a time. That, and getting this Ramsay character put away for a while.”

He watched the shudder run through Theon’s body. “Yeah,” he agreed, uncurling. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I’m just…” He wiped at his eyes. “I guess I’m just hormonal or something.”

“Ah, geez, I’m not going to have to put up with your PMS on top of everything else, am I?”

Theon punched him lightly in the ribs. “Very funny.” Then he winced, as if in pain. “It feels weird, Robb. It feels like…”

“You don’t have to tell me what it’s like.” Robb wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the details anyway. “Do you think your stomach could handle some dinner?”

“I’m starving, actually,” Theon said, and from the boniness of his hand as he grasped Robb’s shoulder, he wasn’t being hyperbolic. “I’m also…very tired. I didn’t…actually take a nap.”

“I gathered.” Robb hoisted him back onto his feet, arm slung over his shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”

Theon nodded. “Home,” he repeated.


	16. Interlude: Ramsay II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II of Friday's update. General warnings for Ramsay...being Ramsay.

He’d seen his Reek. It had taken all his willpower not to grab his little Kraken right then and there. He probably would have if his father hadn’t been present, giving him a dangerous warning glare. He’d pretended to follow Roose back up to the room and instead abandoned him the moment the lift doors were closing. A glimpse of disapproving scowl, and then Roose was being whisked away. Not for long, though. That was fine. Ramsay wasn’t going to _do_ anything. He just needed to see his pet, see that he was okay.

He doubled back down the hallway. Once within hearing distance, he pressed himself flat into one of the nooks and listened and watched as that fucking Lycan—Robb Stark, the smug asshole who’d interrogated him earlier—got his dirty fucking hands all over _his_ property. As if he didn’t have enough reason to make the wolf boy pay already.

Despite his rather humanlike appearance, Ramsay had all the heightened senses of a Canid—smelling, hearing, the senses of a predator. His Reek did not smell right. He smelled like the arrogant Kraken captain who’d tried to order him around, before Ramsay had shown him his place. He could barely smell himself on the squid under the putrid scent of Lycan. And underneath all of that, something else. Something new. Something exciting. Like a bitch in heat.

He didn’t know what it was, couldn’t place it. His astute hearing picked up the word “change” more than once, and that piqued his curiosity. Had something happened to his little Kraken? Had Robb Stark done something? Because only _Ramsay_ was allowed to make alterations to his pet. He’d kill the wolf slowly and painfully if he’d somehow damaged Reek. And Reek did smell of damage. He smelled of blood and pain, but also of flesh and desire and almost like a…

It was almost like a physical pain, letting the two of them walk away together. At least he knew where Reek was now, and where he could find him later. Roose would be coming back for him, not that Ramsay had time for yet another scolding. Right now, he needed to do some research on Kraken biology.


	17. Robb X

Theon slept for a long time. He wasn’t up by the time Robb had to go into work in the morning, so Robb left a ready-heat breakfast on the counter along with a note telling him to call when he woke up. It wasn’t until well after noon that Robb finally got the call on his com-line, and he politely excused himself from a meeting to take it. He was relieved to see Theon’s smiling face looking at him from the small screen on his tablet.

“Hey, how’re you feeling today?”

Theon rubbed at his sleep-filled eyes. “Better?”

“You don’t sound very certain.”

He gnawed on his bottom lip. “I…uh, when I woke up…the pain had stopped.”

“That’s good. Were you able to eat the breakfast I left?”

“I don’t feel like eating.”

Robb scowled at the evasive answer. “Have you at least been drinking? Water, I mean. You look a little dried out.”

The gnawing on his lip grew rougher. “I don’t feel like drinking.”

“You’ve got to drink, Theon.”

“Yeah, but…I’m afraid.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t know where it’s going to come _out_.”

Robb blinked as the uncomfortable implication sank in. “Wait? Are you telling me…do you have a…?”

“I’m not fully female,” Theon said quickly. “But I’m not…fully male, either.” His face grew dark with blushing. “I think going to the resort again was a bad idea.”

It probably hadn’t helped any.

“Just…try to stay calm,” Robb said. “Asha’s on her way as we speak. In the meantime, you can call Talisa if you need help.” He opened his mouth to say something about staying put in the apartment, but he stopped himself. It might seem like too much of an order, and an imprisonment on top of that. “And, of course, you can always call me too.”

Theon’s smile was shy but genuine, and it made Robb’s day.

His day got even better when he could sit down and finally start writing up Ramsay Bolton’s arrest warrant. Jon had sent him a comprehensive list of every illegal item they’d found on the Kraken ship. It churned Robb’s stomach to see “enslaved individual” listed among the drugs and weapons, like Theon had just been another one of Ramsay’s _things_. He also had to look over both Theon’s medical and interrogation reports, which made him so ill that, at one point, he had to set the paperwork aside and take deep breaths while perched over his garbage receptacle, afraid he’d vomit. After a few dry heaves, he pulled himself together. He owed it to Theon to make the charges as thorough as possible.

While working through every major and petty crime associated with slavery, his personal com-line went off. Thinking perhaps it was Theon again, he answered quickly and was greeted instead with the jackal-like visage of Roose Bolton.

“Your honor,” Robb began stiffly. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m wondering when you’ll get around to charging and arresting my son,” he answered.

“As a matter of fact, I have the order right here in front of me.”

“Good,” Roose said, which startled Robb. “The sooner the better. Ramsay is planning to flee.”

“What? When did he tell you this?”

Roose’s nostrils flared in annoyance. “He hasn’t told me, but he must think I am an idiot of the highest caliber to believe I haven’t ascertained his intent. He saw you yesterday, with the Kraken boy. I’m sure he means to make off with him. I’ve done my best to discourage him from any rash course of action.”

“Then try harder,” Robb said. “He’s under your custody. If he flees, it will legally be your fault.”

“You must think I’m an idiot as well,” Roose sighed. “Of course it will legally be my fault. That is why I’m bothering to tell you at all. I’ve done my level best to save my reputation by keeping Ramsay out of trouble, but he seems determined to throw that away. I don’t see the wisdom in siding with an ungrateful child.”

“Where is he now?”

“In his room, plotting no doubt. Seeing you with his…toy…worked him into quite a frenzy. Ramsay has never been able to ignore his baser instincts in favor of rationality, and when he decides to act on this latest one, I fear I won’t be able to physically restrain him. Not for long. So if you could perhaps expedite the paperwork…”

“I’ll have it done in fifteen minutes,” Robb said. “Think you can hold him that long?”

Roose seemed to contemplate it, then shrugged. “I will call hotel security.”

The call ended, and Robb rushed back to the warrant. He’d been taking his time, being as thorough as he could knowing this was the one chance to charge Ramsay with everything he deserved to be charged with. Now, however, it was more important to simply get it done or Ramsay might not get anything he deserved. He finished the last petty item he’d been working on, scrolled to the bottom, and wrote:

_I, Robb Stark, Prime of Station Winterfell, do hereby attest that each charge within has been lawfully documented and do hereby allow that Ramsay Bolton shall be taken into custody for the charges laid out within and none others._

He then signed his name with the stylus and sent it to the station’s police force, followed up by a call to let them know this was an urgent matter. He left the rest of his day’s paperwork lying on his desk and headed out, all the way home worrying about Theon, cursing himself for leaving him alone. He hoped Theon had the wits not to answer the com-line or the door for anyone. _Of course he does_ , he thought, clenching and unclenching his fists in a fidgety movement. The shuttle was taking far too long to get him home. _He’s not an idiot and he’s not a little kid_. And besides, it wasn’t like Ramsay knew where he lived, right?

It wasn’t until he was a block from his apartment that he thought to call Theon. There was no answer, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe he was busy and not able to check the ID. Still, Robb tried again every two minutes until the lift finally reached his floor. The door was unlocked and Theon did not come to greet him.

“Theon!” He checked every room, calling out every so often, but there was no reply. A sense of déjà vu washed over Robb so suddenly that he had to sit on the sofa. Theon wasn’t here. Maybe he’d gone to the resort again, or the hospital. Maybe Talisa had told him to come in for a checkup. It seemed unlikely that he would leave alone, though. Unless it was an emergency, in which case he should have called Robb immediately.

He opened up his com-line to see if maybe Theon had left a message there for him. Nothing. He checked through the line’s call log. The most recent was an incoming call about an hour ago, from his mother of all people. He hit the redial button and waited for her to pick up, though it was actually Sansa who answered.

She was beginning to look like her old self, he noted. The luster was returning to her red hair, and the hollow spaces in her face were beginning to fill out again. “Robb,” she greeted with genuine enthusiasm. “I was wondering when you guys were going to call back.”

“Call back?”

“Yeah, I was talking with Theon a while ago. Gods, he looks awful, Robb.”

“I know. I’m hoping he’ll be able to make as much progress in his recovery as you have so far.”

Her eyes, not quite as shiny as they had once been, flashed in understanding. “We were having a good talk. I’m sure you mean well, Robb. Hells, I _know_ you mean well, and you’ve helped _me_ so much, but sometimes it’s so hard because…because you don’t know what it was like. And it’s not your fault or anything, but I think talking with someone who’s been through the same thing…”

Robb nodded. He understood. Even if he didn’t _understand_.

“So, you’ve been waiting for him to call back?” he asked. “Did he have to go somewhere or do something…?” He waved his hand in a sort of prompting gesture.

“Uh,” Sansa said, knotting her eyebrows together in thought, “someone was knocking on the door. He said you were home early and he’d have to call me back. When he didn’t, I just assumed the two of you had…gone out for dinner or something.”

Robb felt a cold chill creeping at the nape of his neck. “Did you see who was at the door?”

She shook her head. “He hung up before I could see. He seemed really excited you were back…” Her wolf ears twitched. She hadn’t always been the smartest girl, but people often underestimated her ability to read between the lines. In that sense, she was quick to pick things up. “It wasn’t you at the door, was it?”

“Sansa, I’ve got to go.”

She nodded seriously and hung up from her end. That was another thing Sansa was good at—understanding when questions needed to be asked and when they did not.

Robb dialed into the building’s security line, where the camera feed from the main hall was available to all residents. He rewound to about an hour ago, when Sansa had confirmed that Theon was still in the apartment. Holding the tablet between his hands, he sat on the sofa and watched the feed.

Hardly anyone went in or out. He recognized Maege Mormont, the old Ursine woman on the third floor, walk in with an armload of groceries. He saw Meera and Jojen Reed, the odd Crocodilian siblings who never seemed to go to the school, leave holding each other’s hands. Very odd. He saw a staff member of his, the Mammoth Jon Umber, come and drop something in Robb’s mailbox then promptly leave.

About fifteen minutes into the feed, Robb saw him. The hulking form of Ramsay Bolton entering through the automatic doors and striding down the hall until he was out of the camera’s view. He returned ten minutes later, leading Theon by the hand. The two of them parted through the doors and disappeared outside.

Theon hadn’t put up any sort of struggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ursines:   
> The bear-people of Ursa are large and hirsute, even the women. Even if they lag behind other species technology-wise, they make up for it by being among the best ground forces in military matters. The Ursines have always had a close trade bond with Lyca, one of the few outside systems Lyca deals with on a regular basis. 
> 
> Crocodilians:   
> Crocodilians inhabit the marsh planet of Greywater, where the climate is optimal for their reptilian biology. They’re something of a reclusive species that doesn’t interact with the mammalian races very often.
> 
> Mammoths:  
> Mammoths are the largest land-based species, engineered from Earth’s extinct wooly mammoth. Their home world of Last Hearth is a frozen tundra planet, where their thicker-than-average skin and hair protects them from temperatures that would kill a less durable species. Besides the extra hair (some would say fur), they are largely humanlike in appearance.


	18. Robb XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the comments. We're getting close to the end here, but I'm still not sure on the total number of chapters yet.

“Find him!” Robb didn’t care if he was yelling. They weren’t working hard enough or fast enough. Every available police officer and security guard was searching the station—it wasn’t enough. Every available Watchman stood guarding the Kraken ship and Ramsay’s crew—that wasn’t enough either. They were all idiots. Incompetent idiots. And Robb was the biggest one of all.

He pulled at his hair and gnashed his teeth as he paced, since that was the only thing he could do. Technically he wasn’t allowed in here—the security headquarters of Station Winterfell, where every public camera fed back to—but he’d overridden the clearance level. He’d deal with the legality of it all later. Right now, he needed to find Theon.

You’d think a large Canid like Ramsay touting a blue-skinned Kraken behind him would stand out, but not here on Winterfell, where the masses of Piscenes created crowds of brilliant color in every public square. It didn’t keep Robb from trying, though, eyes mere centimeters from the screens, looking for the slightest thing out of place.

Roose was cooperating with the authorities, but that didn’t mean he was being helpful. No, he didn’t know where his son would go to hide. No, he didn’t know how to track him. Robb suspected the Canid had deliberately called in his tip only after it was too late to do anything about it, but of course he had no evidence. He seemed genuine in his belief that Ramsay should be arrested and tried, if for no other reason than to keep his family name off of bounties’ radar. That didn’t keep Robb from wanting to put his fist through Roose’s teeth. He’d _known_. He’d known since yesterday that Ramsay had seen Theon. He should have called sooner.

“Sir?”

Robb pulled his eyes away from the monitor long enough to glance at the Watchman hovering over his shoulder. He was a nervous, fidgety Lapine, fat and stout. Not your typical Watchman physique. No wonder they’d stuck him in the surveillance room. Robb scowled to show his displeasure at being disrupted. “Do you have an update for me?”

The Lapine shook his head. “No, sir, not exactly…” His nose wouldn’t stop twitching. Robb wasn’t given to prejudices, but every instinct handed down to him from his Earth ancestors said he should be treating this man as prey, not an equal. “I just…you have half our men guarding the Kraken ship and the other half guarding the crew…”

“Do you have a better way of going about it?” Robb snapped.

The Lapine flinched and then went rigid.

Robb sighed and forced himself to calm down. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You’re making me nervous with your fidgeting. What did you want to say?”

“Well…what, exactly, makes you think that the suspect is going for either of those things?”

Robb froze at that. “Why wouldn’t he? That’s his ticket off this station.”

“Begging pardon, sir,” the Lapine began hesitantly, “but it’s not. He doesn’t need his crew.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t seem to particularly care about them. And the Kraken ship…he can’t very well make Theon pilot it anymore. What with the…” He tapped his temple. “Gone and all. Seems far more likely to me that he’d make off with a personal shuttle craft, if he was so keen on getting out of here in a hurry.”

The cold that had been creeping over him ever since he’d gotten back to his apartment to find Theon gone had now reached his toes. “You’re right,” he said, standing. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve been an idiot. Again!” He kicked the chair in anger.

“It’s alright,” the Lapine said in a way that was _meant_ to be comforting. “Do you know how hard it is to steal a personal shuttle craft from a harbor as tight-locked as Winterfell’s?” He gave an awkward laugh. “Near impossible, I’d say. I’ll put in the call to put more men in the harbor and—”

“It wouldn’t be stolen,” Robb said, realizing it just as he said it out loud. “Not if the ignition key and ID were given to him by the shuttle’s lawful owner.” He turned back to the screens, singling in on the camera panning back and forth in the marina over the various craft. “Where did Roose Bolton dock his shuttle?”

 

***

 

“We lost the lock on Bolton’s shuttle when it hit hyper-drive,” Jon explained, looking down at his reports, as if willing the tracking icon to reappear. “It was last seen headed towards deep space.”

Robb fastened his collar. “Can we catch up to him?”

“He doesn’t have that much of a head start. A few hours at most.” He nodded resolutely. “We can definitely overtake a personal shuttle. The problem will be locating and tracking a vessel that small.”

“Do it anyway,” Robb said. “I’m going with you.”

Jon looked up, opened his mouth to say something, then quickly closed it. “If you say so. _The Black Castle_ will be ready to go in half an hour.”

“That piece of junk?” Robb scoffed. “You couldn’t overtake a _station_ shuttle in that, let alone a spacefaring ship.”

“It’s the only one my higher-ups would approve for the purpose.”

Robb finished the last snap more harshly than he’d intended. “Don’t your higher-ups know this is a matter of life and death?”

“They…disagree,” Jon explained sheepishly. “They don’t think a small-time pirate is worth sending a larger ship after. If it were me, I’d put our fastest vessel on it, but you know I’m just a paean. My hands are tied.”

Robb sighed in frustration.

“It will be okay, Robb. We’ll find him.”

“I just…I don’t want to think about what Ramsay might be doing to him right now.”

“He’s running,” Jon pointed out. “His mind will be focused on that for the moment. He won’t hurt Theon as long as he’s thinking about escaping.”

That brought Robb a measure of relief, but not much. “In that case, we need to hurry up. The moment Ramsay thinks he’s safe…”

Luckily, he didn’t need to finish that thought, because Jon’s com-line went off. He hurried to answer it. “Jon Targaryen of the Night’s Watch. Who’s hailing?”

“Asha Greyjoy of the Kraken moon Pyke. Is there some fucker named Robb Stark aboard?”

Jon handed the tablet off, flipping the screen around to reveal the face of a Kraken woman. Her skin was the same blue Theon’s had been, once upon a time. Robb hoped he wasn’t venturing into species-ist territory by saying that they looked very much alike. It wouldn’t be too surprising. They were siblings, after all. Twins, since Krakens came in pairs at birth.

“I’m at the docks,” she said. “My shuttle is being held up by some fuck-wit saying your station’s on lockdown?” She sounded incredulous. “I hope you intend to remedy this, because I don’t intend to be kept from my brother any longer.”

A knot formed in Robb’s throat. “Ms. Greyjoy…about your brother…” He tried to swallow that knot, but it only grew larger and bobbed against his Adam’s apple. “He…he’s been taken.”

First Asha looked surprised, then horrified, then angry, all in the span of a single second. “By who? Where to?” She shook her head. Her tendrils swayed about her face. “It was that Ramsay fucker, wasn’t it? I suppose it’s too much to ask you keep a proper psychopath under lockdown.”

“We’re doing everything we can to get him back,” Robb said. “Ramsay took off in a civilian shuttle, so there’s a high chance we can overtake him before he gets very far.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Forgive me for not sharing your confidence.”

_What confidence?_

“If you let me aboard, _I’ll_ find my brother. A lot faster than any of your idiots could.”

“How?”

She snorted. “Kraken warships are faster than anything you’ve got in your harbor. More accurate, too.” Robb must have had a confused look on his face, because she elaborated, “You have a Kraken warship, don’t you? The one my idiot brother stole?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“And now that I’m here, you also have a Kraken.”

 

***

 

Robb had never seen a Kraken ship from the inside, let alone piloted. The whole thing was disturbingly organic-looking, which made sense because Kraken technology was partially organic-based. The walls were a luminescent blue, the hallways rounded like the arteries of a great sea creature. Everything was smooth but pulsed with its own heartbeat. And Asha wasn’t impressed.

She shook her head as she led Robb and Jon to the bridge, following the twisting hallways like she’d been born to them. “What did they do to our ship? Dirty land-walkers. No respect for anything.” Still, she didn’t stop to inspect any of this supposed damage. She was a woman on a mission. A woman after Robb’s own heart.

The bridge doors slid back as they approached, revealing a circular room with a large, cylindrical tank in the center. Robb had been on enough ships to recognize the main console when he saw it. Asha made for it right away, stripping off her boots as she went.

“What do I need to do?” Robb asked.

Without turning, she said, “Nothing. The beauty of a Kraken ship is that it only takes a single pilot to control all the systems.” She tapped on the glass and the vat opened to allow her inside. “You can start charting our course, though. Once I’m sealed in, I’ll be stuck manning all the ship’s systems. When we find my brother, I’m going to bring his shuttle aboard. It will be up to the two of you to get things under control from there. Understood?”

“Absolutely,” Robb answered.

She did turn then, glaring at them. “I’m trusting you, even though I don’t. You’ve already let my brother slip away twice.”

“I promise you.” Robb stepped forward, hand over his heart. “I’ll bring Theon back, alive. I _promise_ it.”

She smirked and stepped into the vat. The glass sealed seamlessly behind her with a pneumatic hiss, and then the tank began to fill with water. Asha remained still as stone as it rose over her knees, her hips, her shoulders, finally her head. Her tendrils drifted about her face as tiny bubbles escaped the gills in her neck. One by one, the console lights came on and the ship hummed to life, with Asha at its center. It was an incredible piece of technology, Robb marveled, how a living creature could so effortlessly communicate with a machine. Until he remembered that Theon had been kept prisoner here for over a cycle. How much time had he spent locked in that tank? And how much had it made him feel like a goldfish in a bowl?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lapines:   
> Lapines are the rabbit-people of Lagos. The expression of rabbit ears is considered most desirable among Lapines and non-Lapines alike, so a sort of phenotype caste system has arisen among them. This is another species that tends to be underestimated, as they are deceptively good combatants—they just happen to use their legs in hand-to-hand fighting, which takes their opponents by surprise. Many a loser of a one-on-one fight with a Lapine comes away with scratched and scarred faces.


	19. Theon VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first (and last?) Theon chapter that's not a flashback, but all the usual warnings apply. 
> 
> More specifically, this chapter includes:  
> Threats of rape  
> Non-consensual touching  
> Implied forced impregnation

The thing about Ramsay was that he liked to talk.

“I’m glad you decided to come along peacefully.”

He’d been talking nonstop since they’d left Winterfell.

“Robb Stark would have made an interesting replacement, but as much as I like a challenge, why start from scratch when the old model works just as well?”

Theon wished he would just shut up.

“Besides, it’s not like we’re going back to the _same old routine_. You’ve got something new for me to play with, don’t you, Reek?”

He leaned across the steering console and placed his hand between Theon’s legs. Theon could feel fingers rubbing against that sensitive and new part of him. He wanted to vomit.

“Mixing things up on me, eh?” Ramsay laughed. “That’s okay. I’ll love you no matter what.” His hand was thankfully gone from that place and now playing with Theon’s tendrils. “My little freak. Do you have _all_ the lady parts now, too? The inside as well as the out?”

Theon remained silent.

“Answer when I ask you something!” Ramsay yanked his hand back and smacked the steering. He wasn’t used to Theon not answering when asked a direct question. The mind control device had made sure he answered promptly and truthfully.

“I don’t know,” Theon finally said, looking at his lap.

“Well, then, we’ll just have to try it out and see. See if anything starts growing in you.” Ramsay went back to his relaxed steering posture. “I never thought of myself as a family man, but I wouldn’t mind filling you up with my pups. I wonder what would come out. Strong as Canids, able to pilot Kraken ships. Or weak Krakens without even _that_ redeeming quality.”

Theon pulled his knees to his chest. He was going to make sure Ramsay never found out which.

The truth was, he was terrified out of his mind. There had been a brief moment, when he’d first opened the door to see Ramsay’s smarmy smirk, where he’d thought about fighting or running or calling for help. But then Ramsay had started _talking_ : _Don’t make a scene now, Reek. It’s up to you whether the two of us are still here when Robb Stark gets back._

“Master,” Theon began, finger tracing the pattern in the fabric of the passenger’s seat, “where are we going?”

Ramsay gave a half-hearted shrug. “Slavers System, I guess. It’s a safe haven for those on the wrong side of intergalactic law. We’ll pick up a crew and a new ship there. I hear there’s a girl who’s managed to salvage three Draconian warships. Imagine the firepower behind one of _those_ things. Makes your little Kraken ship look like a toy boat.” He laughed. “We’ll also see about getting you hooked up again. You’ve been behaving so well. If you keep it up, I don’t see any reason to put more wires in you. But…that’s up to you, eh?”

Theon looked out the window. The stars were moving by as strands of light in hyper-drive. Winterfell was already several dozen light-years behind them. It wasn’t as far as he would have liked, but it would have to do.

“Master,” he said again, coyly this time, “can you stop?”

Ramsay turned to him with an incredulous look. “You want me to turn around? You want me to go back to Winterfell to pick up Robb Stark after all? Because I can.”

“No, I meant…” Now Theon leaned over the console and placed a hand on Ramsay’s thigh. “I’ve missed you. I don’t know if I can wait until we get to the Slavers System.”

Ramsay smiled. With a flick of his wrist, he brought the shuttle out of hyper-drive and they were left suspended in blackness. The stars had become pinpricks of light again, and everything was still as death.

“You little slut.” Ramsay began climbing over the console. His frame was ungainly, and he looked like a giant spider coming for him. “You really can’t go five minutes without a cock in you, can you? You probably tired Robb Stark half to death.”

Theon grabbed hold of Ramsay’s lapels in mock enthusiasm and drew him nearer. Ramsay growled in approval. “No. I tried.” He made his voice low and husky. “Forgive me. I missed you so bad, I was desperate. But he rejected me. Said I was a freak.”

“His loss.” Ramsay cupped his chin. “You really didn’t fuck Robb Stark?”

“No. I haven’t had anything…down there.” He motioned with his eyes. “It’s completely unused.”

Ramsay licked his lips.

“Take me against the wall,” Theon whispered, and just like that, Ramsay hoisted him up, carried him to the back of the cockpit, and slammed him up against the wall. Buttons and switches dug into Theon’s back, but he didn’t let the charade down for a minute. The one useful thing about learning how not to flinch. “Yes, right here.”

“I’m going to fuck you so raw.” He nipped at Theon’s ear, sharp teeth grazing skin. “I’m going to fill you with a litter of pups. Make you so round you can’t even walk, can’t even get out of bed. All you’ll do all day is wait until I’m ready to fuck you again.” He pressed his growing erection into Theon’s side to show him.

Theon couldn’t bring himself to fake a lustful moan when Ramsay bent down to rip his pants— the pants Robb had bought for him—foregoing his shirt entirely. That was fine, though, because if his eyes were down there, they weren’t on Theon’s hands groping blindly behind him for the buttons. His fingers found what they were looking for just as Ramsay began to shimmy the pants down his legs.

“Master.”

Ramsay looked up, annoyed at being distracted.

“I hope there’s a separate level of hell for people like you, because I don’t want to run into you while I’m there.”

Ramsay scowled. The words had not even taken on meaning when Theon disengaged the airlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Slavers System:  
> The Aquillian System, nicknamed the “Slavers System,” is regarded as one of the last bastions of lawlessness in the galaxy because of its refusal to sign the Intergalactic Personhood Rights Convention. As a result, the system has become something of a melting pot for criminals and outlaws of all species, who outnumber the native Aquillians. The Aquillians themselves, an eagle-based avian species, use the demand for illegal goods and services to drive their economy, even if they don’t necessarily agree with their customers’ moral leanings.


	20. Robb XII

“Found them.” Asha’s voice was distorted and amplified by the water.

“Are you sure?” Robb asked.

“A small cruiser, two lifeforms aboard. One is definitely Kraken. They’ve dropped out of hyperspace.”

Jon looked from her to the bridge window then back, as if that would allow him to see what she saw. “You can tell all that?”

She didn’t answer, but the entire ship lurched as they dropped out of hyperspace. If the gravity fields were a fraction of a second slower, they would all have been splattered against the windshield from the deceleration. As it was, Robb and Jon merely staggered.

Robb was up and on his feet in an instant. He could see it now, the tiny vessel parked out in the middle of nowhere, hardly more than a dozen miles away. These Kraken warships must have some sort of amazing accuracy to pinpoint a position in space so closely. The Night’s Watch could only dream of such precision.

“There’s something wrong,” Asha said, drawing his attention back to her. “Life support system is failing. The two vital signs are dropping.”

“Get them onboard!” Robb barked, though Asha didn’t need any prompting. He heard the groaning of the shuttle bay doors opening somewhere in the bowels of the ship and the gravity pull-field firing up. It grabbed hold of the smaller vessel like an iron filing to a magnet, drawing it in.

“Get down to the shuttle bay,” Asha said. “I’ll show you the way.”

“How—?” The word wasn’t even fully formed before the bridge doors slid open to reveal the luminescent hallway lights flashing an obvious “this way” pattern. He looked to Jon, who was un-holstering his gun. An understanding nod passed between them, then they took off, following Asha’s lightshow.

The Kraken ship didn’t have levels so much as random rooms placed along a sloping corridor. Sometimes the floor would angle downwards, other times slant upwards. They passed doors with indecipherable markings, but as long as Asha told them to keep moving, he didn’t have time to even contemplate that. He knew the shuttle bay when he saw it up ahead; Asha had kindly opened the doors to let them in.

It was a cavernous area, the empty belly of this space whale of a ship. It was deserted, the niches along the wall showing where escape pods would normally be kept. And then there was the shuttle, a red model with a Canidae registration number across its stern. The hatch had already been opened, violently by the looks of the debris scattered out the deck of the shuttle bay. Robb turned to Jon with a swift nod, telling him to keep his weapon ready.

“Ramsay Bolton,” he called as they inched closer, “I’m placing you under arrest for…” No, he didn’t have time for that now. And there was plenty of free room when it was an immediate issue of life or death. To hells with red tape. “Theon!” he called out. “Are you there?”

No answer.

Jon searched around the side of the shuttle, gun at the ready. Robb watched his serpentine tail disappear behind the tail of the ship. “Clear!” His heavy boots clomped around the other side. Just as his wings came back into view, he stopped, suddenly tensing. “Robb! I found Ramsay!”

Robb came running before he could even think of the danger, though surely if there _was_ danger, Jon wouldn’t have called him over. He came the shorter way around, pulling up when he saw what Jon had seen.

Ramsay was sprawled out on the ground, eyes opened, bulging and bloodshot. His entire face was puffy and bloated and tinged blue, a color Canids were definitely not supposed to be. He was dead. Robb knew it, even before Jon knelt down to take his pulse. A grim look confirmed it.

“Suffocation,” he said. “He died in the vacuum of space.” He tilted his chin and regarded the open door. “It was probably opened before Asha even brought them onboard.”

“Theon?” Robb didn’t care about Ramsay. That wasn’t important right now. There wasn’t another body nearby, so there was still hope. “Theon!” He tore through the opened shuttle door, nearly tearing it off its hinges as he yanked it back.

The inside was small, just a cockpit and a personal quarters area. There wasn’t much to search, since Theon was right there, wedged in the cockpit door, facedown, unmoving.

Robb ran to his side, pulled him out, and flipped him over. Theon’s face wasn’t as bloated at Ramsay’s, though his eyes were closed. He couldn’t tell if his skin was supposed to be that color, but it didn’t look like he’d been exposed as long as Ramsay had. Perhaps there was still hope.

Robb laid him out flat on his back in the middle of the shuttle hallway and leaned his ear to his chest. He could hear the heartbeat, so at least the decompression hadn’t burst Theon’s lungs. He was still alive, suffering from hypoxia and hypothermia, but alive. Robb would sigh in relief if it meant Theon was out of danger. He wasn’t. Not by a long shot. How long had he been deprived of oxygen? If Theon ever did wake up again, there could be permanent brain damage.

Robb laughed mirthlessly at that. “Come on, Theon.” He shook the limp body. “I didn’t get that thing out of your head just so you could go and scramble your brains anyway.”

If Theon was in a coma, this wouldn’t wake him, but Robb had to try anyway. He had to believe that Theon had just passed out from lack of oxygen, that he would open his eyes and be unharmed. Except he wouldn’t really be unharmed, would he?

“Wake up. Asha’s here. She came here for you. She broke gods know how many laws to come for you. _I_ broke gods know how many laws…” He clutched Theon’s hand. It was cold and delicate, like sculpted ice. He tried to warm it between his own. “I’m sorry I didn’t take better care of you. At Winterfell or back on Lyca. I’m…I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you. But Ramsay’s dead. I know you’re the one who did it. I know you pulled the hatch release. And as brave as I think that was, it was also really stupid. Because I was coming for you, Theon. I was coming and I would have saved you.”

Jon’s head appeared around the hatch door. “Is he in there?”

Robb knew what he meant, but he laughed anyway. “Hear that, Theon? Jon wants to know if you’re in there.” The warmth was returning to his body, like a warmed-over corpse. “What should I tell him?”

There was no answer, no stirring.

“Robb…?” Jon ducked through the doorframe, curling his wings close as he did so. He stopped when he saw the scene before him.

“He’s alive,” Robb insisted.

Jon didn’t argue. “He needs medical attention. I’ll go ask Asha where the med bay is. You…stay here in case he wakes up.” He turned on his heel and left, and Robb hoped he would be able to find his way back to the bridge.

Robb shifted to cradle Theon’s head in his lap. “I wish you’d let me save you.”


	21. Robb/Theon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: 
> 
> Discussion of euthanasia  
> Overwhelming sappiness

Asha looked up as Robb entered.

She looked terrible. Almost as drawn and withered as her brother lying in the hospital bed beside her. She still had some blue in her cheeks, though; the only color to Theon were the wires keeping him alive. Every morning before he stepped through those doors, Robb would prepare himself. And every morning he would be taken aback by the sight.

Theon had not woken up in two weeks. For the first three days, neither Robb nor Asha would leave his side. On the fourth, they agreed to take turns—Asha during the day, Robb during the night. Robb wasn’t getting as much sleep as he should, but seeing Theon’s brainwaves spike when he spoke to him made that a null point. Theon seemed to like it best when he talked about their years together on Lyca. He didn’t know what Asha talked with him about in their hours together.

“Any change?” he asked hopefully as she stood and retrieved her jacket from the back of the chair.

She shook her head. Then paused and thought. “Well…the nurse told me he’s back to normal…physically.”

“I guess your presence was what his body needed after all.” Robb cringed as the words left his mouth. That hadn’t sounded so creepy in his head. “I mean…I’m sure he’ll be glad when he wakes up.”

“ _When_?” she huffed. “You still think he _will_ wake up?”

“Of course he will. He could wake up today or tomorrow.”

“Or twenty cycles from now,” she spat back. “I’ve been thinking…it’s cruel of us to keep him like this, a prisoner in his own body again.”

They’d been dancing around this issue for a while now. Robb wanted to keep dancing. “At least give him a chance to come out of it. You don’t know how strong he is.”

“Maybe,” Asha said, though she was letting the issue slide because she began slipping into her jacket. “I need to call my mother and come up with some new lie about how he’s doing a little better or how I thought I saw his toes moving today.” She shook her head in disgust and brushed past him. The door hissed closed behind her.

Robb ran his hands through his hair, then down his face. Theon was waiting for him.

He pulled the chair close so he could lean with his elbows on the bed. “Hey, Theon, it’s Robb.” He always began like that. “I talked with Sansa today. She hopes you get better soon because she wants to talk to you again.” He wanted to reach out and grab Theon’s hand, but he wasn’t sure that would be comforting to him or not. “I never told you how she got away from Littlefinger. Yeah, even with the mind control tech in her head, she found a way to call for help. See he, Littlefinger, he had her doing chores. Nothing too strenuous.”

_He liked my hands to be soft,_ she’d said, and Robb shuddered at the memory.

“But things like preparing meals and keeping the house tidy and mending his clothing…domestic stuff.”

_Like I was his wife_.

The bio-readouts beat a steady rhythm on the hospital machines as Robb tried to regain himself. He hated Littlefinger. He hated Ramsay. Why hadn’t he been able to keep them from hurting his loved ones?

“It was the clothing. He liked the old-fashioned hand-stitching. You know, the kind Mom taught Sansa. Arya refused to learn.” He laughed weakly at that. “Sansa would stitch a seam and send the garment off for cleaning. Somehow, she managed to sew a message to the inside of one of the seams, and the cleaners found it when they got the suit. I think it was just ‘help’ or ‘SOS,’ something simple. She was able to do it because Littlefinger hadn’t given her specific enough instructions on how to sew the clothes. He didn’t know anything about inseams or hems or whatever, so he told her to just do with it whatever she wanted. And that’s how she got the message out.”

He sniffed and realized he was crying.

“She was so strong and resourceful, Theon. The way you were strong and resourceful when you killed Ramsay. And I know you’re strong enough to get through this.”

Tentatively, he did take Theon’s hand in his own. He’d held the Kraken’s hand like this when they’d been reunited—Theon in a hospital bed, Robb seated next to him and offering support. It was a pitiful gesture.

“Sansa asked if I loved you. Today, when I talked to her. I thought that was a weird question, so I asked her where she’d gotten that idea. You know what she told me? She told me everyone knew. Yeah, Mom, Arya, Bran, Jeyne…uh, Jeyne Poole _and_ Jeyne Westerling, apparently. She said it had been obvious for years. And that made me angry.”

He squeezed Theon’s hand tight.

“Because it _wasn’t_ obvious to me.”

The machines continued to beep, and Theon didn’t move.

“I _do_ love you, Theon. I don’t know…I don’t know what that _means_ , exactly, but I know it’s true.”

He let his head rest against the bed’s railing. Confessions were supposed to take weight off your chest, not add more. This was the part where Theon was supposed to magically wake up, and Robb would lean over and kiss him and they’d live happily ever after. But Theon didn’t move at all. He was as still and lifeless as he’d ever been.

So Robb leaned over and landed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

 

***

 

Theon didn’t know where he was. It felt like he was in a dream, constantly on the cusp of waking up. The ether of nothingness was so thick he could reach out and touch it. There were shapes and images, half-remembered from a lifetime ago on Lyca and another lifetime ago on Pyke. But mostly there were voices.

He knew Robb and he knew Asha. That was how he figured this was a dream. He hadn’t heard Asha’s voice in cycles, ever since they were children, so how would he recognize it now? He wondered if this was what heaven was like—sweet and gentle memories surrounding him forever. He could accept that.

He had no sense of time, except perhaps that he’d been here a while. There was no pain. There was no hunger. There was no hot or cold. There was, however, a light, small and out of reach. In his more lucid moments, sometimes he would try to make it to the light, because that seemed to be where the voices were coming from. The nothingness was like swimming, and he could move through it, but only if he concentrated. It felt like there was something he was forgetting, something just at the back of his thoughts, something important. And when he was close to remembering, he would move closer to the light.

It was uncomfortably warm, the closer he got to it, and there was pain in his limbs that made him feel heavy and old beyond age. But he kept moving, because it seemed like Robb was on the other side of that light. And he’d already abandoned Robb once. He couldn’t do it again.

 

***

 

On the seventeenth day of his coma, Theon opened his eyes on his own. It happened while Asha was sitting with him, and Robb got the call at work. He dropped everything and rushed to the hospital, where Asha, not one of the nurses, greeted him. “He’s started talking,” she explained. “Babbling, really. Nonsense words. No one can understand hardly any of it…except your name keeps coming up.”

“My name?”

“We think he’s asking for you.”

Robb was rushed up to Theon’s hospital room, where he found the Kraken sitting up in bed, attended by two nurses. Theon seemed agitated by their fussing, because he kept trying to shrug them off. A litany of indistinguishable noises shot rapid-fire from his mouth, but Asha was right—it was babbling. Amidst all the garbled nonsense, there was one repeated syllable Asha had also been right about. “Robb.”

“Theon.”

Theon looked up at the sound of his name, and his lips split into a wide, toothy smile. “Obb.”

Robb crossed the room and grasped the weak hand Theon held out for him.

“Bed-abadda da.” He gritted his teeth and furrowed his brow, so at least he realized he was speaking nonsense.

“Speech might be slow in returning,” one of the nurses offered.

“Can he understand what I’m saying?”

Theon answered by nodding. With his free hand, he mimed a pen and paper.

The male nurse sighed. “He’s suffering from asphasia, resulting from damage to a very specific area of the brain. Anything he writes will come out likewise incomprehensible. Sorry,” he added with a sympathetic smile.

Theon’s broad grin fell from his face.

“That’s okay,” Robb said to Theon, patting his hand. “You don’t need to say anything. I’ve been doing all the talking these last few weeks, after all.” He paused, considering the bony hand in his own. It was even smaller than the last time he’d held it, wasted from being kept alive by machines. “Were you able to hear any of it?”

Theon nodded.

“What…did you hear? Did you hear the part where I…?”

Theon tugged at Robb’s wrist, and Robb allowed his hand to be turned over, palm up. Theon drew it to his own chest, where he laid it flat against his sternum. Robb could feel the heart beat through the thin material of the hospital gown.

Robb smiled and laughed and shook his head. “You’re such a sap.”

 

***

 

“Robb…get…me…outta...‘ere.”

“Good morning to you too.” Robb was jaunty as usual, though Theon suspected it was more of an act to keep his spirits up. He always brought something with him. Today it had a grocery bag in his hands, which he set on the table by the door before crossing the room to plant a kiss on Theon’s forehead. Theon loved being greeted this way, that halfway point between platonic and romantic. “I know you want to go home. Talisa tells me your physical therapy is going well enough that you’ll be able to leave soon.”

“Soooon?” Theon asked.

This recovery was taking much longer than the last. Or perhaps it was simply that the last recovery had been rushed. The doctors were adamant that Robb not take him home again too soon, the way he had after he’d had the mind control device taken out.

Regardless, his therapy was coming along. He had more or less learned to speak, though it was slow and torturous. It was coming back to him in increments, which the doctors suggested meant the damage wouldn’t be permanent. He was also able to get out of bed and even walk a little with the help of a walker. His muscles had atrophied, but Krakens could build up muscle mass on a dime since they were used to moving between environments of varying gravity.

His body was on the mend and his brain was healing itself as best it could, but it was his mental condition that was still up in the air. The nurses tried to be discrete, but he had heard them whispering to Robb about how he woke in the middle of the night screaming, that it took them several minutes to calm him down. He hated being touched, by the nurses, by the doctors. But he couldn’t get enough of Robb’s touches, and he couldn’t say why, exactly. The more romantic part of him said it was because he loved the Lycan; the frightened child in him said it was because Robb made him feel safe.

Asha made him feel safe, too, but he wasn’t constantly holding her hand, feeling her face with his hands to make sure she was real. He’d been startled to wake up to her face, eyebrows pinched in concern, which was not a look he ever expected to see on her. But she was concerned and leaning over his bed, and then she was yelling to the hospital staff to get their “sorry asses in here.”

She’d saved him, Robb insisted. He’d had nothing to do with it, though Theon wouldn’t quite believe that. He cried when Asha called him a dumbass for even thinking she wouldn’t come for him. They’d hugged, which was a big thing because Theon still wasn’t comfortable being touched and Asha had never been one of those touchy-feely sisters. But they’d hugged and he’d thanked her, in his own broken words, and she’d allowed him to cry on her shoulder and had even shed a few tears herself.

“Hey,” Robb said, and Theon realized he’d allowed his mind to wander again. He went over to the windows and turned the tint down, allowing that artificial light to come streaming in. “Sansa wanted to do something nice for you,” he continued casually. “I told her you really needed some clothes that fit. I gave her your old measurements, so that’s incentive to get your weight back up. So you can fit into your new clothes.”

Theon smiled weakly. He’d been putting on a little weight here and there, but he was still wire thin. There were places that would never fully fill in again, the doctor had said, like the hollows of his eyes. And he wouldn’t be able to put any muscle on until he could actually walk more than twenty paces at a time. Right now food was the only way to get that starved look off him.

“I brought you something.” Robb went for his bag and lifted a large cake from inside. “Think you can stomach something sweet?” He brought it to the bedside and held it out low for Theon to inspect. It was sloppily frosted, which meant he’d probably baked it himself this morning.

Theon studied the cake for a moment. “Girl,” he said at last.

“What?”

“Girl,” Theon repeated, looking physically pained with his enunciation. He dipped one finger into the pink frosting and held it out for Robb to see. “Pink. Girl.”

“That’s not pink. It’s salmon. Because it’s a salmon cake.”

Theon scrunched his face up in skepticism.

“Can’t you tell?” He balanced the plate on one knee so he could free one hand to trace the outline of the cake. “It’s a fish. See? There’s the tail, and there’s the head…” He studied it himself for a moment, as if seeing it for the first time. “Well, I suppose it isn’t a very _good_ fish. Honestly, though, I didn’t bake you a girl’s cake. Why would I do that?”

“Be…cause…”

He was having trouble articulating, but Robb had gotten pretty good at reading him. “Shush,” he said, setting the cake down. “I don’t care what…sex you are. Today or tomorrow. I could never think you were weird or disgusting.” He went back to the bag and returned with a plate, cutlery, and an enormous knife. He calmly took a seat and began slicing the cake with methodical precision. “Now, stop questioning my motives and eat your cake.” He cut off a slice of cake, set it on the plate, and handed it to Theon.

Theon reached out to take it, but when Robb saw how his hands were trembling, he smiled softly and set the plate in his own lap. He picked up a fork, cut off a bit, and brought it to Theon’s mouth. It was a little embarrassing, feeling like he couldn’t do anything himself, but he took the offered bite anyway.

The sweetness brought tears to his eyes. “Good,” he said through the mouthful.

“Glad to hear it.”

Theon thought at he chewed. Finally he swallowed, and before Robb could get the next bite in his mouth, he began, “Sure…?”

Robb paused, fork in midair.

“Sure…you want…be…with me?”

Robb gave him what he’d come to call “the look.” Disapproval. Stubborn disapproval. “Do we really have to go over this again?” He set the cake and fork down. Serious business. “I’ve made up my mind, okay?”

Theon stared determinedly into his lap.

“I’m broken.”

“Don’t talk about yourself that way. Do you think Sansa’s broken?”

Theon waved his hand about. “Can’t…even…talk.”

“It’s coming back to you. You get along fine. _I_ can understand you.”

“You’re just…guilty.”

Robb sighed again. “I feel guilty about letting Ramsay get you again. That should never have happened. But when I thought I might never see you again, I guess I just realized how important you are to me. I mean, I’m still standing by what I said back then. You’re not ready for a full-on relationship, but I figure that if we take baby steps, maybe we can get to where we’re both comfortable.”

He leaned over and kissed Theon’s lips. It was brief and chaste, and Theon allowed himself to relish it anyway. His lips were chapped from constant dehydration, and he could only hope Robb wasn’t disgusted. Despite his constant reassurances, Theon wasn’t so certain. He’d be disgusted with himself. Fractured little mind in a fractured little body. What could he possibly offer Robb?

Theon opened his eyes as Robb drew back from the kiss. Perhaps there was something.

He let his hands rest on his stomach. “Give…” His brows furrowed, the way they did when he was searching for a word he should know. That tip-of-the-tongue feeling, only multiplied a hundred-fold. “Pups. You want.”

“No.” Robb shook his head. “I mean, yes, maybe, someday. But that’s not…that doesn’t have anything to do with…”

“Half…breed. Don’t want…half-breed…pups. I…understand.”

“For a man who can barely speak, you’re pretty good at interrupting me.” Robb leaned forward and brushed a stray tendril out of Theon’s face. “You’re moving way too fast, you know. First off, that thing with Jeyne…I mean, children were only a part of the issue. There was also her mother, and she wanted Jeyne to move back to Piscea, and no way was I doing that. And the more time I spent with her, the more I realized we really didn’t have that much and common. It wasn’t just the half-breed children thing, so I’d really rather you forgot I even said anything. And secondly, I know you weren’t exactly thrilled with the changes happening to your body, so even if we do get to the point of wanting children, we’ll adopt. Your happiness is more important than anything I could ever want for myself.”

“Serious? You…want me?”

“Of course I want you. I baked you a cake and everything.”

Theon scowled.

“Seriously, though. I want you, Theon. I want you in my life. I want you as my friend. I want you as more than that. I want to see you get better and show everyone who ever doubted you just how wrong they were. I want you to be strong.” He brushed his thumb over Theon’s bottom lip, smooth skin on rough, dry skin. “I want to help make you strong again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join me next time for the epilogue, and thanks again for reading. You guys have made this one of the funnest multi-chapter fics I've done so far.


	22. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings, but a few cameos. This is the second story I've written where Jaime and Brienne show up as hard-boiled detectives, but that's because that is my absolute favorite AU for these two. And Jaime and Brienne as hard-boiled space detectives? I couldn't resist.

There weren’t so much loose threads as there were great, gaping holes of resolution. As much as Robb wanted to take Theon home and begin him on the path of recovery, he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. For one, Theon was a criminal. Robb could move to have him declared unfit to stand trial, but then the courts would order him sent to a mental institution and that was just swapping one kind of prison for another. He didn’t want to think about how Theon would respond when they came to take him away. It would break him all over again.

His worst fears were realized when, not long after Theon woke up, the interrogators arrived at Robb’s door. Apparently they didn’t want to speak with Theon, but rather with Robb himself.

The lead interrogator was a man Robb had never seen before, as he was certain there were no Leonines aboard Winterfell Station. The other—a large Ursine woman, even by their standards—he did recognize as an enforcer who had worked on Sansa’s case. She eyed him with similar recognition, the kind that said, _We really need to stop meeting like this_.

“Officer Tarth,” he said, opening the door to allow them both in. “And…uh…”

“Lannister,” the Leonine said, holding out his badge. “Jaime Lannister.”

That name sent a bolt of dread racing down Robb’s spine. The Lannisters were the most powerful family on Leonia, and their name had shown up more than once on Roose Bolton’s background check. If Roose was attempting to sweep this under the rug, perhaps even foist all the blame off on Theon, he wasn’t going to allow it.

“What can I do for you, officers?” he asked coldly.

“The people we spoke with at the hospital said you’re personally overseeing the Kraken Affair?”

Robb blinked. “The Kraken Affair?”

“Sorry,” Officer Tarth said, shaking her head as if she’d made a slip of the tongue. “That’s the unofficial designation we were given. I meant you’re overseeing Theon Greyjoy’s case?”

“Not…exactly. Not in an official capacity.” He was beginning to regret letting them in. “What’s this about?”

“Would you say you represent Greyjoy’s legal interests?”

“I suppose.” He was the closest thing Theon had to family since Asha had taken off at the first sign of law enforcement. Technically speaking, she was returning the Kraken warship to where it belonged and said that she’d be back once she had smoothed things over with the Kraken War Council. _You’re better for him anyway_ , had been her parting words.

“Okay, let’s be honest with ourselves here.” The Leonine pulled the barstool up and helped himself to a seat. Robb’s canine side bristled at a stranger so casually laying claim to his territory. “Your client has already been through a lot.” Robb suspected they didn’t know the half of it. “And while there are some serious charges being levied about, they’re mostly…” He waved his hand, as if searching for the appropriate word. “Bureaucratic in nature?” He looked to his partner for approval.

Officer Tarth’s mouth was a thin, straight line. She was obviously the more straight-laced of them. “We’re not interested in collaring a small-time pirate,” she said bluntly. “At least, not as interested as we are in collaring Roose Bolton.”

“ _Roose_ Bolton?” Robb asked incredulously.

“Now there’s a man with an impressive record,” Officer Lannister said with an appreciative, depreciatory grin. “Large-scale corruption, bribery, interfering with numerous legal cases, and perpetuating the miscarriage of justice. There’s some evidence that he has connections to Petyr Baelish, the man you call Littlefinger, which would explain where Ramsay Bolton came by the tech he was using on your client.” He snapped his fingers, as if remembering something. “Oh, and the doctor Greyjoy mentioned in his interrogation reports…Qyburn. Turns out he’s into some nasty business that makes what he did to your friend look like child’s play.”

“I’m sure Theon doesn’t think of it as child’s play,” Robb growled. “What do you two want?”

“What we want,” Officer Tarth said, shooting her partner a look, “is to offer Greyjoy a plea bargain. If he testifies against Roose Bolton and Dr. Qyburn, we’re willing to reduce his sentence.”

“Reduce his sentence to _what_?”

“To whatever you feel is appropriate,” Officer Lannister finished with a shrug. “Fine him, keep him under house arrest. Hells, give him a literal slap on the wrist and we’ll call it even. As his legal counsel, we thought we’d bring this to you first.”

“I’ll…talk with him about it.” Testifying for an intergalactic trial would be taxing on Theon’s physical and mental state. He’d have to recount his ordeal in front of a tribunal, when he’d been reluctant to even tell Robb. Still, it was probably the best option, but he didn’t want to okay anything without Theon’s permission. “Thank you for your time, officers.”

As he led them out, he had another thought.

“If there’s any help _I_ can give you in prosecuting Roose Bolton, let me know.”

Officer Tarth smiled thinly in appreciation and Officer Lannister smiled smugly. “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Stark.”

 

***

 

 

“Talisa says they’re going to clear me to leave soon.” Theon stared into his lap as Robb helped him out of the bed and into the wheelchair. This was their routine: a daily stroll around the hospital floor.

“That’s a good thing,” Robb said.

Theon made a noncommittal noise. “This entire floor is on a closed air-circuit,” he muttered. He did his best to help Robb maneuver his feet into their proper places, but he needn’t have worried. He was so light that he was no burden at all, and Robb could move him like a doll. Not that he liked that comparison. “You know, to stop the spread of airborne diseases and such.”

Robb nodded absentmindedly.

“When I leave, I’ll be out in the open air again.”

“About time, right?” Robb stood and patted his shoulder.

“I’ll be exposed to Piscene pheromones again, most likely.”

Robb didn’t miss a beat. “You might not have the same reaction again. Talisa thinks you just reacted that way because you’d gone so long without contact with any Krakens, so maybe Asha’s presence will linger a little.”

“Maybe,” Theon said miserably.

“Hey, hey.” Robb sank to his knees to look Theon in the eyes. “Would you prefer to go somewhere where there aren’t any Piscenes?” He cracked a smile in his usual relentlessly optimistic way. “Yeah, let’s get off this station. Who needs to Winterfell?”

“We?”

“Yes, _we_. The both of us.”

“But you’re—”

“I’ll say I’m taking an extended leave of absence. I’ll leave Umber in charge. And we…” He took Theon’s hands. “We can travel the system, tour the galaxy. Whatever you want. Wherever you want to go. Somewhere where there aren’t any Piscenes. Somewhere where there aren’t any other people, just the two of us.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course I would. I’ll need to clear it with the Night’s Watch, what with you still technically being an outlaw and all. But Tarth and Lannister are still building their case against Bolton, so I imagine we have a little time to get started on our vacation.” He leaned his head forward, forehead to forehead with Theon. “Just say the word.”

“What’s the word?”

“What do you think the word is?”

Theon hummed in contentment. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Theon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again, everyone, for reading and/or leaving a comment. I almost never let this thing see the light of day, and I've quite frankly been blown away by the response I got. Glad to see I'm not the only weirdo out there. ;D

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit welcome. Comments appreciated. And thanks for reading.


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